| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from An International Episode by Henry James: after a round of visits in Bond Street and Regent Street, she was
about to return with her sister to Jones's Hotel, she made an earnest
request that they should be driven home by way of Westminster Abbey.
She had begun by asking whether it would not be possible to take the Tower
on the way to their lodgings; but it happened that at a more primitive stage
of her culture Mrs. Westgate had paid a visit to this venerable monument,
which she spoke of ever afterward vaguely as a dreadful disappointment;
so that she expressed the liveliest disapproval of any attempt to combine
historical researches with the purchase of hairbrushes and notepaper.
The most she would consent to do in this line was to spend half
an hour at Madame Tussaud's, where she saw several dusty wax effigies
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Lay Morals by Robert Louis Stevenson: the foil and to plunge home. And if in aught that I shall
say I should offend others, your colleagues, whom I respect
and remember with affection, I can but offer them my regret;
I am not free, I am inspired by the consideration of
interests far more large; and such pain as can be inflicted
by anything from me must be indeed trifling when compared
with the pain with which they read your letter. It is not
the hangman, but the criminal, that brings dishonour on the
house.
You belong, sir, to a sect - I believe my sect, and that in
which my ancestors laboured - which has enjoyed, and partly
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Ann Veronica by H. G. Wells: "What are we going to do?" said Capes, with his eyes on the broad
distances beyond the ribbon of the river.
"I will do whatever you want," said Ann Veronica.
"My first love was all blundering," said Capes.
He thought for a moment, and went on: "Love is something that
has to be taken care of. One has to be so careful. . . . It's a
beautiful plant, but a tender one. . . . I didn't know. I've a
dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. How
can I tell you all I feel? I love you beyond measure. And I'm
afraid. . . . I'm anxious, joyfully anxious, like a man when he
has found a treasure."
|
