| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Egmont by Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe: Regent. Be that as it may, it is bad enough. As I said before, he injures us
without benefiting himself. He treats as a jest matters of serious import;
and, not to appear negligent and remiss, we are forced to treat seriously
what he intended as a jest. Thus one urges on the other; and what we are
endeavouring to avert is actually brought to pass. He is more dangerous
than the acknowledged head of a conspiracy; and I am much mistaken if it
is not all remembered against him at court. I cannot deny that scarcely a
day passes in which he does not wound me--deeply wound me.
Machiavel. He appears to me to act on all occasions, according to the
dictates of his conscience. Regent. His conscience has a convenient
mirror. His demeanour is often offensive. He carries himself as if he felt
Egmont |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from In the South Seas by Robert Louis Stevenson: avatars, came to the assistance of the shipwrecked and carried them
ashore in the guise of a ray fish. The same divinity bore priests
from isle to isle about the archipelago, and by his aid, within the
century, persons have been seen to fly. The tutelar deity of each
isle is likewise helpful, and by a particular form of wedge-shaped
cloud on the horizon announces the coming of a ship.
To one who conceives of these atolls, so narrow, so barren, so
beset with sea, here would seem a superfluity of ghostly denizens.
And yet there are more. In the various brackish pools and ponds,
beautiful women with long red hair are seen to rise and bathe; only
(timid as mice) on the first sound of feet upon the coral they dive
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift: it with all my strength so luckily, at a linnet, that I knocked
him down, and seizing him by the neck with both my hands, ran
with him in triumph to my nurse. However, the bird, who had only
been stunned, recovering himself gave me so many boxes with his
wings, on both sides of my head and body, though I held him at
arm's-length, and was out of the reach of his claws, that I was
twenty times thinking to let him go. But I was soon relieved by
one of our servants, who wrung off the bird's neck, and I had him
next day for dinner, by the queen's command. This linnet, as
near as I can remember, seemed to be somewhat larger than an
English swan.
Gulliver's Travels |
