| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from De Profundis by Oscar Wilde: absolute intensity of apprehension.
I now see that sorrow, being the supreme emotion of which man is
capable, is at once the type and test of all great art. What the
artist is always looking for is the mode of existence in which soul
and body are one and indivisible: in which the outward is
expressive of the inward: in which form reveals. Of such modes of
existence there are not a few: youth and the arts preoccupied with
youth may serve as a model for us at one moment: at another we may
like to think that, in its subtlety and sensitiveness of
impression, its suggestion of a spirit dwelling in external things
and making its raiment of earth and air, of mist and city alike,
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Cruise of the Jasper B. by Don Marquis: and earth, Cap'n Abernethy gave a cry and pointed at something
with his finger. Cleggett, looking at the spot indicated, saw
upon the edge of this singular fracture in the earth a thing that
sent a quick chill of horror and repulsion to his heart. It was
a dead hand, roughly severed between the wrist and the elbow.
The back of it was uppermost; the fingers were clenched.
Cleggett set down his lantern beside it and turned it over with
his foot.
The dead fingers clutched a scrap of something yellow. On one of
them was a large and peculiar ring.
"My God!" murmured Lady Agatha, grasping Cleggett convulsively by
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Nana, Miller's Daughter, Captain Burle, Death of Olivier Becaille by Emile Zola: guests.
Bordenave was loudly recommending the thick soup when a shout arose,
followed by protests and indignant exclamations. The door had just
opened, and three late arrivals, a woman and two men, had just come
in. Oh dear, no! There was no space for them! Nana, however,
without leaving her chair, began screwing up her eyes in the effort
to find out whether she knew them. The woman was Louise Violaine,
but she had never seen the men before.
"This gentleman, my dear," said Vandeuvres, "is a friend of mine, a
naval officer, Monsieur de Foucarmont by name. I invited him."
Foucarmont bowed and seemed very much at ease, for he added:
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