| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Secret Sharer by Joseph Conrad: to myself the coming passage through the Malay Archipelago,
down the Indian Ocean, and up the Atlantic. All its phases
were familiar enough to me, every characteristic, all the
alternatives which were likely to face me on the high seas--
everything! . . . except the novel responsibility of command.
But I took heart from the reasonable thought that the ship
was like other ships, the men like other men, and that the sea
was not likely to keep any special surprises expressly
for my discomfiture.
Arrived at that comforting conclusion, I bethought myself
of a cigar and went below to get it. All was still down there.
The Secret Sharer |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Copy-Cat & Other Stories by Mary E. Wilkins Freeman: acquainted with it." That is what Harold Lind
seemed to say. Viola Longstreet became even more
youthful under his gaze; even Jane Carew regretted
that she had not worn her amethyst comb and be-
gan to doubt its unsuitability. Viola very soon
called the young man's attention to Jane's ame-
thysts, and Jane always wondered why she did not
then mention the comb. She removed a brooch and
a bracelet for him to inspect.
"They are really wonderful," he declared. "I
have never seen greater depth of color in amethysts."
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Poems of William Blake by William Blake: The helpless worm arose and sat upon the Lillys leaf,
And the bright Cloud saild on, to find his partner in the vale.
III.
Then Thel astonish'd view'd the Worm upon its dewy bed.
Art thou a Worm? image of weakness. art thou but a Worm?
I see thee like an infant wrapped in the Lillys leaf;
Ah weep not little voice, thou can'st not speak, but thou can'st weep:
Is this a Worm? I see they lay helpless & naked: weeping
And none to answer, none to cherish thee with mothers smiles.
The Clod of Clay heard the Worms voice & rais'd her pitying head:
She bowd over the weeping infant, and her life exhald
Poems of William Blake |
