| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Heroes by Charles Kingsley: on through the deeps of Sardinia, and past the Ausonian
islands, and the capes of the Tyrrhenian shore, till they
came to a flowery island, upon a still bright summer's eve.
And as they neared it, slowly and wearily, they heard sweet
songs upon the shore. But when Medeia heard it, she started,
and cried, 'Beware, all heroes, for these are the rocks of
the Sirens. You must pass close by them, for there is no
other channel; but those who listen to that song are lost.'
Then Orpheus spoke, the king of all minstrels, 'Let them
match their song against mine. I have charmed stones, and
trees, and dragons, how much more the hearts of men!' So he
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Master of Ballantrae by Robert Louis Stevenson: pitying of my master, it had been to exult in that deliverance."
I do not know if she marked; but her next words were, "My lord?"
"That shall be my part," said I.
"You will not speak to him as you have to me?" she asked.
"Madam," said I, "have you not some one else to think of? Leave my
lord to me."
"Some one else?" she repeated.
"Your husband," said I. She looked at me with a countenance
illegible. "Are you going to turn your back on him?" I asked.
Still she looked at me; then her hand went to her heart again.
"No," said she.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Art of Writing by Robert Louis Stevenson: harsh as well as to be sentimental; to be ascetic as well as
to glorify the appetites; and if a man were to combine all
these extremes into his work, each in its place and
proportion, that work would be the world's masterpiece of
morality as well as of art. Partiality is immorality; for
any book is wrong that gives a misleading picture of the
world and life. The trouble is that the weakling must be
partial; the work of one proving dank and depressing; of
another, cheap and vulgar; of a third, epileptically sensual;
of a fourth, sourly ascetic. In literature as in conduct,
you can never hope to do exactly right. All you can do is to
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