| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Death of the Lion by Henry James: hoped Mr. Morrow didn't expect great things even of his young
friend. His young friend, at this moment, looked at Neil Paraday
with an anxious eye, greatly wondering if he were doomed to be ill
again; but Paraday's own kind face met his question reassuringly,
seemed to say in a glance intelligible enough: "Oh I'm not ill,
but I'm scared: get him out of the house as quietly as possible."
Getting newspaper-men out of the house was odd business for an
emissary of Mr. Pinhorn, and I was so exhilarated by the idea of it
that I called after him as he left us: "Read the article in THE
EMPIRE and you'll soon be all right!"
CHAPTER V.
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Othello by William Shakespeare: Goodnight.
Enter.
Enter Iago.
Cas. Welcome Iago: we must to the Watch
Iago. Not this houre Lieutenant: 'tis not yet ten
o'th' clocke. Our Generall cast vs thus earely for the
loue of his Desdemona: Who, let vs not therefore blame;
he hath not yet made wanton the night with her: and
she is sport for Ioue
Cas. She's a most exquisite Lady
Iago. And Ile warrant her, full of Game
Othello |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Lady Baltimore by Owen Wister: married by a law of creation.
With such highly novel thoughts as these I descended the steps from my
researches at the corner of Court and Chancel streets an hour earlier
than my custom, because--well, I couldn't, that day, stand Cowpens for
another minute. Up at the corner of Court and Worship the people were
going decently into church; it was a sweet, gentle late Friday in Lent. I
had intended keeping out-of-doors, to smell the roses in the gardens, to
bask in the soft remnant of sunshine, to loiter and peep in through the
Kings Port garden gates, up the silent walks to the silent verandas. But
the slow stream of people took me, instead, into church with the deeply
veiled ladies of Kings Port, hushed in their perpetual mourning for not
|
