| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Professor by Charlotte Bronte: I do till evening?" for before six P.M. it would be vain to seek
the Rue Notre Dame aux Neiges; its inhabitant (for me it had but
one) was detained by her vocation elsewhere. I walked in the
streets of Brussels, and I walked in my own room from two o'clock
till six; never once in that space of time did I sit down. I was
in my chamber when the last-named hour struck; I had just bathed
my face and feverish hands, and was standing near the glass; my
cheek was crimson, my eye was flame, still all my features looked
quite settled and calm. Descending swiftly the stair and
stepping out, I was glad to see Twilight drawing on in clouds;
such shade was to me like a grateful screen, and the chill of
The Professor |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass: An American Slave by Frederick Douglass:
It is partly in consequence of such facts, that
slaves, when inquired of as to their condition and
the character of their masters, almost universally say
they are contented, and that their masters are kind.
The slaveholders have been known to send in spies
among their slaves, to ascertain their views and feel-
ings in regard to their condition. The frequency of
this has had the effect to establish among the slaves
the maxim, that a still tongue makes a wise head.
They suppress the truth rather than take the con-
The Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass: An American Slave |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Altar of the Dead by Henry James: in life. In regard to those from whom one was separated by the
long curves of the globe such a connexion could only be an
improvement: it brought them instantly within reach. Of course
there were gaps in the constellation, for Stransom knew he could
only pretend to act for his own, and it wasn't every figure passing
before his eyes into the great obscure that was entitled to a
memorial. There was a strange sanctification in death, but some
characters were more sanctified by being forgotten than by being
remembered. The greatest blank in the shining page was the memory
of Acton Hague, of which he inveterately tried to rid himself. For
Acton Hague no flame could ever rise on any altar of his.
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