| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Mansfield Park by Jane Austen: principal women. All the best plays were run over in vain.
Neither Hamlet, nor Macbeth, nor Othello, nor Douglas,
nor The Gamester, presented anything that could satisfy
even the tragedians; and The Rivals, The School for Scandal,
Wheel of Fortune, Heir at Law, and a long et cetera,
were successively dismissed with yet warmer objections.
No piece could be proposed that did not supply somebody
with a difficulty, and on one side or the other it was
a continual repetition of, "Oh no, _that_ will never do!
Let us have no ranting tragedies. Too many characters.
Not a tolerable woman's part in the play. Anything but _that_,
Mansfield Park |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Mayor of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy: Thus she lived on, a dumb, deep-feeling, great-eyed
creature, construed by not a single contiguous being;
quenching with patient fortitude her incipient interest in
Farfrae, because it seemed to be one-sided, unmaidenly, and
unwise. True, that for reasons best known to herself, she
had, since Farfrae's dismissal, shifted her quarters from
the back room affording a view of the yard (which she had
occupied with such zest) to a front chamber overlooking the
street; but as for the young man, whenever he passed the
house he seldom or never turned his head.
Winter had almost come, and unsettled weather made her still
The Mayor of Casterbridge |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence: it for what it is.'
He still lay with his hand on her breast. But she had drawn both her
hands from him.
His words were small comfort. She sobbed aloud.
'Nay, nay!' he said. 'Ta'e the thick wi' th' thin. This wor a bit o'
thin for once.'
She wept bitterly, sobbing. 'But I want to love you, and I can't. It
only seems horrid.'
He laughed a little, half bitter, half amused.
'It isna horrid,' he said, 'even if tha thinks it is. An' tha canna
ma'e it horrid. Dunna fret thysen about lovin' me. Tha'lt niver force
Lady Chatterley's Lover |
