| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Art of Writing by Robert Louis Stevenson: swamped and dwarfed among hardly relevant orchestration; our
little passionate story drowns in a deep sea of descriptive
eloquence or slipshod talk.
But again, we are rather more tempted to admit those
particulars which we know we can describe; and hence those
most of all which, having been described very often, have
grown to be conventionally treated in the practice of our
art. These we choose, as the mason chooses the acanthus to
adorn his capital, because they come naturally to the
accustomed hand. The old stock incidents and accessories,
tricks of work-manship and schemes of composition (all being
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Edingburgh Picturesque Notes by Robert Louis Stevenson: house is now demolished, old Edinburgh cannot clear
herself of his unholy memory. He and his sister lived
together in an odour of sour piety. She was a marvellous
spinster; he had a rare gift of supplication, and was
known among devout admirers by the name of Angelical
Thomas. 'He was a tall, black man, and ordinarily looked
down to the ground; a grim countenance, and a big nose.
His garb was still a cloak, and somewhat dark, and he
never went without his staff.' How it came about that
Angelical Thomas was burned in company with his staff,
and his sister in gentler manner hanged, and whether
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Dreams by Olive Schreiner: sides. Always its large eyes were sad and thoughtful: always the little
brave mouth was smiling quietly.
When on the sharp stones Life cut her feet, he wiped the blood upon his
garments, and kissed the wounded feet with his little lips. When in the
desert Love lay down faint (for Love itself grows faint), he ran over the
hot sand with his little naked feet, and even there in the desert found
water in the holes in the rocks to moisten Love's lips with. He was no
burden--he never weighted them; he only helped them forward on their
journey.
When they came to the dark ravine where the icicles hang from the rocks--
for Love and Life must pass through strange drear places--there, where all
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