| The first excerpt represents the element of Air. It speaks of mental influences and the process of thought, and is drawn from The Two Brothers by Honore de Balzac: convalescent, his mother coldly explained to him that the costs of his
illness had taken all her ready money, that she should be obliged in
future to work for her living, and she urged him, with the utmost
kindness, to re-enter the army and support himself.
"You might have spared me that sermon," said Philippe, looking at his
mother with an eye that was cold from utter indifference. "I have seen
all along that neither you nor my brother love me. I am alone in the
world; I like it best!"
"Make yourself worthy of our affection," answered the poor mother,
struck to the very heart, "and we will give it back to you--"
"Nonsense!" he cried, interrupting her.
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The second excerpt represents the element of Fire. It speaks of emotional influences and base passions, and is drawn from Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson:
Treasure Island |
| The third excerpt represents the element of Water. It speaks of pure spiritual influences and feelings of love, and is drawn from Tarzan of the Apes by Edgar Rice Burroughs: many or arduous.
In the afternoon comes Thaka, possibly, to complain that
old Mungo has stolen his new wife. Then must Tarzan summon
all before him, and if he finds that the wife prefers her
new lord he commands that matters remain as they are, or
possibly that Mungo give Thaka one of his daughters in exchange.
Whatever his decision, the apes accept it as final, and
return to their occupations satisfied.
Then comes Tana, shrieking and holding tight her side
from which blood is streaming. Gunto, her husband, has
cruelly bitten her! And Gunto, summoned, says that Tana is
Tarzan of the Apes |
The fourth excerpt represents the element of Earth. It speaks of physical influences and the impact of the unseen on the visible world, and is drawn from A Personal Record by Joseph Conrad: religion except for the inverted creed of impiety, the mask and
cloak of arid despair; for every joy and every sorrow, for every
fair dream, for every charitable hope. The great aim is to
remain true to the emotions called out of the deep encircled by
the firmament of stars, whose infinite numbers and awful
distances may move us to laughter or tears (was it the Walrus or
the Carpenter, in the poem, who "wept to see such quantities of
sand"?), or, again, to a properly steeled heart, may matter
nothing at all.
The casual quotation, which had suggested itself out of a poem
full of merit, leads me to remark that in the conception of a
A Personal Record |
