| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Bronte Sisters: help him.
'Let them be tolerably decent then, Arthur,' said I. The word
'friend' in his mouth makes me shudder: I know it was some of his
'friends' that induced him to stay behind me in London, and kept
him away so long: indeed, from what he has unguardedly told me, or
hinted from time to time, I cannot doubt that he frequently showed
them my letters, to let them see how fondly his wife watched over
his interests, and how keenly she regretted his absence; and that
they induced him to remain week after week, and to plunge into all
manner of excesses, to avoid being laughed at for a wife-ridden
fool, and, perhaps, to show how far he could venture to go without
The Tenant of Wildfell Hall |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from End of the Tether by Joseph Conrad: I can make you no return. I am too poor even for that
now. Your esteem is worth having. You are not a
man that would stoop to deceive the poorest sort of devil
on earth, or make a ship unseaworthy every time he
takes her to sea."
Mr. Van Wyk, leaning forward, his face gone pink
all over, with the starched table-napkin over his knees,
was inclined to mistrust his senses, his power of com-
prehension, the sanity of his guest.
"Where? Why? In the name of God!--what's this?
What ship? I don't understand who . . ."
End of the Tether |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Vailima Prayers & Sabbath Morn by Robert Louis Stevenson: and the recitation in concert of the Lord's Prayer, also in Samoan.
Many of these hymns were set to ancient tunes, very wild and
warlike, and strangely at variance with the missionary words.
Sometimes a passing band of hostile warriors, with blackened faces,
would peer in at us through the open windows, and often we were
forced to pause until the strangely savage, monotonous noise of the
native drums had ceased; but no Samoan, nor, I trust, white person,
changed his reverent attitude. Once, I remember a look of
surprised dismay crossing the countenance of Tusitala when my son,
contrary to his usual custom of reading the next chapter following
that of yesterday, turned back the leaves of his Bible to find a
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