| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Chance by Joseph Conrad: was not an unfriendly visitor after all. No wonder then that even
young Powell, his faculties having been put on the alert, began to
think that there was something unusual about the man who had given
him his chance in life. Yes, decidedly, his captain was "strange."
There was something wrong somewhere, he said to himself, never
guessing that his young and candid eyes were in the presence of a
passion profound, tyrannical and mortal, discovering its own
existence, astounded at feeling itself helpless and dismayed at
finding itself incurable.
Powell had never before felt this mysterious uneasiness so strongly
as on that evening when it had been his good fortune to make Mrs.
Chance |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Land that Time Forgot by Edgar Rice Burroughs: The tug came close beside us, and a man on deck threw us a rope.
Willing hands dragged us to the deck, Nobs scrambling nimbly
aboard without assistance. The rough men were gentle as mothers
with the girl. Plying us both with questions they hustled her to
the captain's cabin and me to the boiler-room. They told the
girl to take off her wet clothes and throw them outside the door
that they might be dried, and then to slip into the captain's
bunk and get warm. They didn't have to tell me to strip after I
once got into the warmth of the boiler-room. In a jiffy, my
clothes hung about where they might dry most quickly, and I
myself was absorbing, through every pore, the welcome heat of the
The Land that Time Forgot |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf: myself, thought Lily, girding at herself bitterly, who am not a woman,
but a peevish, ill-tempered, dried-up old maid, presumably.
[Mr Ramsay sighed to the full. He waited. Was she not going to say
anything? Did she not see what he wanted from her? Then he said he
had a particular reason for wanting to go to the Lighthouse. His boy
with a tuberculous hip, the lightkeeper's son. He sighed profoundly.
He sighed significantly. All Lily wished was that this enormous flood
of grief, this insatiable hunger for sympathy, this demand that she
should surrender herself up to him entirely, and even so he had sorrows
enough to keep her supplied for ever, should leave her, should be
diverted (she kept looking at the house, hoping for an interruption)
To the Lighthouse |
