| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Travels with a Donkey in the Cevenne by Robert Louis Stevenson: me to the cloisters, into the chapter-house, through the vestry,
where the brothers' gowns and broad straw hats were hanging up,
each with his religious name upon a board - names full of legendary
suavity and interest, such as Basil, Hilarion, Raphael, or
Pacifique; into the library, where were all the works of Veuillot
and Chateaubriand, and the ODES ET BALLADES, if you please, and
even Moliere, to say nothing of innumerable fathers and a great
variety of local and general historians. Thence my good Irishman
took me round the workshops, where brothers bake bread, and make
cartwheels, and take photographs; where one superintends a
collection of curiosities, and another a gallery of rabbits. For
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf: shape. She had met Paul Rayley like that one day on the stairs. It had
been an earwig, apparently. Other people might find centipedes. They
had laughed and laughed.
But it tired Mrs Ramsay, it cowed her a little--the plates whizzing
and the doors slamming. And there would fall between them sometimes
long rigid Lily in her, half plaintive, half resentful, she seemed
unable to surmount the tempest calmly, or to laugh as they laughed, but
in her weariness perhaps concealed something. She brooded and sat
silent. After a time he would hang stealthily about the places where
she was--roaming under the window where she sat writing letters or
talking, for she would take care to be busy when he passed, and evade
 To the Lighthouse |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from When a Man Marries by Mary Roberts Rinehart: them.
To go back to the anniversary, I went to Rothberg's to see the
collection of antique furniture--mother was looking for a
sideboard for father's birthday in March--and I met Jimmy there,
boring into a worm-hole in a seventeenth-century bedpost with the
end of a match, and looking his nearest to sad. When he saw me
he came over.
"I'm blue today, Kit," he said, after we had shaken hands. "Come
and help me dig bait, and then let's go fishing. If there's a
worm in every hole in that bedpost, we could go into the fish
business. It's a good business."
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