| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Poems by Oscar Wilde: Drunk with the trampled vintage of my youth,
I would forget the wearying wasted strife,
The riven veil, the Gorgon eyes of Truth,
The prayerless vigil and the cry for prayer,
The barren gifts, the lifted arms, the dull insensate air!
Sing on! sing on! O feathered Niobe,
Thou canst make sorrow beautiful, and steal
From joy its sweetest music, not as we
Who by dead voiceless silence strive to heal
Our too untented wounds, and do but keep
Pain barricadoed in our hearts, and murder pillowed sleep.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Chance by Joseph Conrad: order to give, rose quietly and went out of the room.
Once outside, the servants summoned by the passing maid without a
bell being rung, and quick, quick, let all this luggage be taken
down into the hall, and let one of you call a cab. She stood
outside the drawing-room door on the landing, looking at each piece,
trunk, leather cases, portmanteaus, being carried past her, her
brows knitted and her aspect so sombre and absorbed that it took
some little time for the butler to muster courage enough to speak to
her. But he reflected that he was a free-born Briton and had his
rights. He spoke straight to the point but in the usual respectful
manner.
Chance |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence: made from the one you have. It would only take a day or so, I suppose.
You could spare your key for so long.'
'Ah canna tell yer, m'Lady! Ah know nob'dy as ma'es keys round 'ere.'
Connie suddenly flushed with anger.
'Very well!' she said. 'I'll see to it.'
'All right, your Ladyship.'
Their eyes met. His had a cold, ugly look of dislike and contempt, and
indifference to what would happen. Hers were hot with rebuff.
But her heart sank, she saw how utterly he disliked her, when she went
against him. And she saw him in a sort of desperation.
'Good afternoon!'
Lady Chatterley's Lover |
