| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Rewards and Fairies by Rudyard Kipling: he said, the taste of my naughty dolphins out of my mouth. Iron's
sweet stuff if you don't torture her, and hammered work is all
pure, truthful line, with a reason and a support for every curve
and bar of it. A week at that settled my stomach handsomely, and
the Master let me put the work through the smithy, where I
sweated out more of my foolish pride.'
'Good stuff is good iron,' said Mr Springett. 'I done a pair of
lodge gates once in Eighteen hundred Sixty-three.'
'Oh, I forgot to say that Bob Brygandyne whipped away my
draft of the ship's scroll-work, and would not give it back to me
to re-draw. He said 'twould do well enough. Howsoever, my
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Lady Baltimore by Owen Wister: sunlight shone through the gray moss, lighting the curtained solitudes
away and away into the depths of the golden afternoon; and somewhere amid
the miles of sleeping wilderness sounded the hoarse honk of the
automobile. The Replacers were abroad, enjoying what they could in this
country where they did not belong, and which did not as yet belong to
them. Once again we heard their honk off to our left, from a farther
distance, and I am glad to say that we did not see them at all.
"If," said John Mayrant, "what you have said is true, the nation had
better get on its knees and pray God to give it grace."
I looked at the boy and saw that his countenance had grown very fine.
"The act," I said, "would bring grace, wherever it comes from."
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Massimilla Doni by Honore de Balzac: conviction that brought fond words to their lips. Modesty, the goddess
who in a moment of forgetfulness with Love, was the mother of
Coquettishness, need not have put her hand before her face as she
looked at these lovers. As a crowning joy, an orgy of happiness,
Massimilla pillowed Emilio's head in her arms, and now and then
ventured to press her lips to his; but only as a bird dips its beak
into the clear waters of a spring, looking round lest it should be
seen. Their fancy worked upon this kiss, as a composer develops a
subject by the endless resources of music, and it produced in them
such tumultuous and vibrating echoes as fevered their blood.
The Idea must always be stronger than the Fact, otherwise desire would
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