| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Ann Veronica by H. G. Wells: impossible. But she was disturbed, mysteriously disturbed. She
remembered abruptly that she was really living upon his money.
She leaned forward and addressed him.
"Mr. Ramage," she said, "please don't talk like this."
He made to speak and did not.
"I don't want you to do it, to go on talking to me. I don't want
to hear you. If I had known that you had meant to talk like this
I wouldn't have come here."
"But how can I help it? How can I keep silence?"
"Please!" she insisted. "Please not now."
"I MUST talk with you. I must say what I have to say!"
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Tales of Unrest by Joseph Conrad: He could not help noticing with pleasure the philosophic breadth of
his view, but he could not pause to enjoy it, for his inspiration, the
call of august truth, carried him on.
"You must respect the moral foundations of a society that has made you
what you are. Be true to it. That's duty--that's honour--that's
honesty."
He felt a great glow within him, as though he had swallowed something
hot. He made a step nearer. She sat up and looked at him with an
ardour of expectation that stimulated his sense of the supreme
importance of that moment. And as if forgetting himself he raised his
voice very much.
Tales of Unrest |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift: animals; to behold my figure often in a glass, and thus, if
possible, habituate myself by time to tolerate the sight of a
human creature; to lament the brutality to HOUYHNHNMS in my own
country, but always treat their persons with respect, for the
sake of my noble master, his family, his friends, and the whole
HOUYHNHNM race, whom these of ours have the honour to resemble in
all their lineaments, however their intellectuals came to
degenerate.
I began last week to permit my wife to sit at dinner with me, at
the farthest end of a long table; and to answer (but with the
utmost brevity) the few questions I asked her. Yet, the smell of
Gulliver's Travels |
