| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Walden by Henry David Thoreau: January; in '53, the 31st of December. The snow had already covered
the ground since the 25th of November, and surrounded me suddenly
with the scenery of winter. I withdrew yet farther into my shell,
and endeavored to keep a bright fire both within my house and within
my breast. My employment out of doors now was to collect the dead
wood in the forest, bringing it in my hands or on my shoulders, or
sometimes trailing a dead pine tree under each arm to my shed. An
old forest fence which had seen its best days was a great haul for
me. I sacrificed it to Vulcan, for it was past serving the god
Terminus. How much more interesting an event is that man's supper
who has just been forth in the snow to hunt, nay, you might say,
Walden |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Death of the Lion by Henry James: hold of it. It was Mr. Deedy who had let the thing down so
dreadfully: he was never mentioned in the office now save in
connexion with that misdemeanour. Young as I was I had been in a
manner taken over from Mr. Deedy, who had been owner as well as
editor; forming part of a promiscuous lot, mainly plant and office-
furniture, which poor Mrs. Deedy, in her bereavement and
depression, parted with at a rough valuation. I could account for
my continuity but on the supposition that I had been cheap. I
rather resented the practice of fathering all flatness on my late
protector, who was in his unhonoured grave; but as I had my way to
make I found matter enough for complacency in being on a "staff."
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Pool in the Desert by Sara Jeanette Duncan: snowy ranges--to build what we like with, and we built Simla--
altitude, 7,000, population 2,500, headquarters of the Government of
India during the summer months. An ark it was, of course; an ark of
refuge from the horrible heat that surged below, and I wondered as I
climbed the steeps of Summer Hill in search of I. Armour's
inaccessible address, whether he was to be the dove bearing
beautiful testimony of a world coming nearer. I rejected the
simile, however, as over-sanguine; we had been too long abandoned on
our Ararat.
Chapter 2.III.
A dog of no sort of caste stood in the veranda and barked at me
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