| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Lair of the White Worm by Bram Stoker: stripped and chipped, and the smaller branches broken and
dishevelled looking from the constant stress and threshing of the
storm.
Of the house as such, there was, even at the short distance from
which they looked, no trace. Adam resolutely turned his back on the
devastation and hurried on. Mimi was not only upset and shocked in
many ways, but she was physically "dog tired," and falling asleep on
her feet. Adam took her to her room and made her undress and get
into bed, taking care that the room was well lighted both by
sunshine and lamps. The only obstruction was from a silk curtain,
drawn across the window to keep out the glare. He sat beside her,
Lair of the White Worm |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Some Reminiscences by Joseph Conrad: smoke of steamers rising out there, beyond the slim and tall
Planier lighthouse cutting the line of the wind-swept horizon
with a white perpendicular stroke. They were hospitable souls,
these sturdy Provencal seamen. Under the general designation of
le petit ami de Baptistin I was made the guest of the Corporation
of Pilots, and had the freedom of their boats night or day. And
many a day and a night too did I spend cruising with these rough,
kindly men, under whose auspices my intimacy with the sea began.
Many a time "the little friend of Baptistin" had the hooded cloak
of the Mediterranean sailor thrown over him by their honest hands
while dodging at night under the lee of Chateau d'If on the watch
Some Reminiscences |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Historical Lecturers and Essays by Charles Kingsley: when one finds in them a tenderness, a sweetness, a delicacy, a
magnificent self-sacrifice, however hideously misplaced, which shows
what a womanly heart was there; a heart which, joined to that
queenly brain, might have made her a blessing and a glory to
Scotland, had not the whole character been warped and ruinate from
childhood, by an education so abominable, that anyone who knows what
words she must have heard, what scenes she must have beheld in
France, from her youth up, will wonder that she sinned so little:
not that she sinned so much. One may feel, in a word, that there is
every excuse for those who have asserted Mary's innocence, because
their own high-mindedness shrank from believing her guilty: but
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