| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf: praise his boots when he asked her to solace his soul; when he had
shown her his bleeding hands, his lacerated heart, and asked her to
pity them, then to say, cheerfully, "Ah, but what beautiful boots you
wear!" deserved, she knew, and she looked up expecting to get it in one
of his sudden roars of ill-temper complete annihilation.
Instead, Mr Ramsay smiled. His pall, his draperies, his infirmities
fell from him. Ah, yes, he said, holding his foot up for her to look
at, they were first-rate boots. There was only one man in England who
could make boots like that. Boots are among the chief curses of
mankind, he said. "Bootmakers make it their business," he exclaimed,
"to cripple and torture the human foot." They are also the most
To the Lighthouse |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Aeneid by Virgil: And pushing at their chests his pointed lance,
Wheel'd with so swift a motion, mad with fear,
They threw their master headlong from the chair.
They stare, they start, nor stop their course, before
They bear the bounding chariot to the shore.
Now Lucagus and Liger scour the plains,
With two white steeds; but Liger holds the reins,
And Lucagus the lofty seat maintains:
Bold brethren both. The former wav'd in air
His flaming sword: Aeneas couch'd his spear,
Unus'd to threats, and more unus'd to fear.
Aeneid |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Madame Firmiani by Honore de Balzac: woman sincerely, as you love me, respects the sanctity of her
trust in him too deeply to dishonor himself.
"'I blame myself now for what I have written; a word might have
sufficed, and I have preached to you! Scold me; I wish to be
scolded,--but not much, only a little. Dear, between us two the
power is yours--you alone should perceive your own faults.'"
"Well, uncle?" said Octave, whose eyes were full of tears.
"There's more in the letter; finish it."
"Oh, the rest is only to be read by a lover," answered Octave,
smiling.
"Yes, right, my boy," said the old man, gently. "I have had many
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