| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Travels of Sir John Mandeville by Sir John Mandeville: great compass that is clept the centre, be made another little
compass. Then after, be the great compass devised by lines in many
parts, and that all the lines meet at the centre. So, that in as
many parts as the great compass shall be departed, in as many shall
be departed the little, that is about the centre, albeit that the
spaces be less. Now then, be the great compass represented for the
firmament, and the little compass represented for the earth. Now
then, the firmament is devised by astronomers in twelve signs, and
every sign is devised in thirty degrees; that is, 360 degrees that
the firmament hath above. Also, be the earth devised in as many
parts as the firmament, and let every part answer to a degree of
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Return of the Native by Thomas Hardy: "You are blinded, Clym," she said warmly. "It was
a bad day for you when you first set eyes on her.
And your scheme is merely a castle in the air built
on purpose to justify this folly which has seized you,
and to salve your conscience on the irrational situation
you are in."
"Mother, that's not true," he firmly answered.
"Can you maintain that I sit and tell untruths, when all
I wish to do is to save you from sorrow? For shame,
Clym! But it is all through that woman--a hussy!"
Clym reddened like fire and rose. He placed his hand
Return of the Native |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Footnote to History by Robert Louis Stevenson: Samoa. All goes to him, all comes from him. Native deputations
bring him gifts and are feasted in return. White travellers, to
their indescribable irritation, are (on his approach) waved from
his path by his armed guards. He summons his dancers by the note
of a bugle. He sits nightly at home before a semicircle of
talking-men from many quarters of the islands, delivering and
hearing those ornate and elegant orations in which the Samoan heart
delights. About himself and all his surroundings there breathes a
striking sense of order, tranquillity, and native plenty. He is of
a tall and powerful person, sixty years of age, white-haired and
with a white moustache; his eyes bright and quiet; his jaw
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