| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Records of a Family of Engineers by Robert Louis Stevenson: unfrequented shores, an expanse of desert moor, and the high-
piled Western Ocean. The site of the tower was chosen.
Perhaps it is by inheritance of blood, but I know few things
more inspiriting than this location of a lighthouse in a
designated space of heather and air, through which the sea-
birds are still flying. By 9 p.m. the return journey had
brought them again to the shores of the Kyle. The night was
dirty, and as the sea was high and the ferry-boat small,
Soutar and Mr. Stevenson were left on the far side, while the
rest of the party embarked and were received into the
darkness. They made, in fact, a safe though an alarming
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Fisherman's Luck by Henry van Dyke: than an ordinary "good day" or a flat "how are you?" as a folk-song
of Scotland or the Tyrol is better than the futile love-ditty of the
drawing-room. They have a spicy and rememberable flavour. They
speak to the imagination and point the way to treasure-trove.
There is a touch of dignity in them, too, for all they are so free
and easy--the dignity of independence, the native spirit of one who
takes for granted that his mode of living has a right to make its
own forms of speech. I admire a man who does not hesitate to salute
the world in the dialect of his calling.
How salty and stimulating, for example, is the sailorman's hail of
"Ship ahoy!" It is like a breeze laden with briny odours and a
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Chance by Joseph Conrad: perceived a flavour of revolt.
And so the altercation in the night went on, over the irremediable.
He arguing "What's the hurry? Why clear out like this?" perhaps a
little sorry for the girl and as usual without a penny in his
pocket, appreciating the comfortable quarters, wishing to linger on
as long as possible in the shameless enjoyment of this already
doomed luxury. There was really no hurry for a few days. Always
time enough to vanish. And, with that, a touch of masculine
softness, a sort of regard for appearances surviving his
degradation: "You might behave decently at the last, Eliza." But
there was no softness in the sallow face under the gala effect of
Chance |
