| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Of The Nature of Things by Lucretius: Common to many things are mixed in things,
No wonder 'tis that therefore divers things
By divers things are nourished. And, again,
Often it matters vastly with what others,
In what positions the primordial germs
Are bound together, and what motions, too,
They give and get among themselves; for these
Same germs do put together sky, sea, lands,
Rivers, and sun, grains, trees, and breathing things,
But yet commixed they are in divers modes
With divers things, forever as they move.
Of The Nature of Things |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Kenilworth by Walter Scott: the Earl at the highest pitch. This man was indeed highly
qualified by nature to discharge the part in which he found
himself placed, being discreet and cautious on the one hand, and,
on the other, quick, keen-witted, and imaginative; so that even
the Countess, prejudiced as she was against him on many accounts,
felt and enjoyed his powers of conversation, and was more
disposed than she had ever hitherto found herself to join in the
praises which the Earl lavished on his favourite. The hour of
rest at length arrived, the Earl and Countess retired to their
apartment, and all was silent in the castle for the rest of the
night.
Kenilworth |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Black Arrow by Robert Louis Stevenson: and fully breathed from their fatigues. At Dick's command, the
fire was smothered in snow; and while his men got once more wearily
to saddle, he himself, remembering, somewhat late, true woodland
caution, chose a tall oak and nimbly clambered to the topmost fork.
Hence he could look far abroad on the moonlit and snow-paven
forest. On the south-west, dark against the horizon, stood those
upland, heathy quarters where he and Joanna had met with the
terrifying misadventure of the leper. And there his eye was caught
by a spot of ruddy brightness no bigger than a needle's eye.
He blamed himself sharply for his previous neglect. Were that, as
it appeared to be, the shining of Sir Daniel's camp-fire, he should
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