| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Pool of Blood in the Pastor's Study by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner: all the rest of the world. For this ugly yellow house enclosed
in its walls a goodly sum of hopeless human misery and misfortune.
It was an insane asylum.
For twenty years now, the asylum had stood on its hill, a source of
superstitious terror to the villagers, but at the same time a source
of added income. It meant money for them, for it afforded a
constant and ever-open market for their farm products and the output
of their home industry. But every now and then a scream or a harsh
laugh would ring out from behind those barred windows, and those in
the village who could hear, would shiver and cross themselves.
Shepherd Janci had little fear of the big house. His little hut
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Dynamiter by Robert Louis Stevenson and Fanny Van De Grift Stevenson: shawl and bonnet, and covering my face with a thick veil, I
betook myself to that great bazaar of dangerous and smiling
chances, the pavement of the city. It was already late at
night, and the weather being wet and windy, there were few
abroad besides policemen. These, on my present mission, I
had wit enough to know for enemies; and wherever I perceived
their moving lanterns, I made haste to turn aside and choose
another thoroughfare. A few miserable women still walked the
pavement; here and there were young fellows returning drunk,
or ruffians of the lowest class lurking in the mouths of
alleys; but of any one to whom I might appeal in my distress,
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from King Lear by William Shakespeare: Hangs one that gathers sampire- dreadful trade!
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head.
The fishermen that walk upon the beach
Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark,
Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy
Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge
That on th' unnumb'red idle pebble chafes
Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more,
Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight
Topple down headlong.
Glou. Set me where you stand.
King Lear |
