| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Agnes Grey by Anne Bronte: change is really for the better: but I sincerely hope it is; and I
wish you true happiness and the best of blessings.'
'Well, good-by, the carriage is waiting, and they're calling me.'
She gave me a hasty kiss, and was hurrying away; but, suddenly
returning, embraced me with more affection than I thought her
capable of evincing, and departed with tears in her eyes. Poor
girl! I really loved her then; and forgave her from my heart all
the injury she had done me - and others also: she had not half
known it, I was sure; and I prayed God to pardon her too.
During the remainder of that day of festal sadness, I was left to
my own devices. Being too much unhinged for any steady occupation,
Agnes Grey |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Taras Bulba and Other Tales by Nikolai Vasilievich Gogol: the blood suddenly rush to his heart. "Why is she in the city?"
"Because the old lord himself is in the city: he has been Waiwode of
Dubno for the last year and a half."
"Is she married? How strange you are! Tell me about her."
"She has eaten nothing for two days."
"What!"
"And not one of the inhabitants has had a morsel of bread for a long
while; all have long been eating earth."
Andrii was astounded.
"The lady saw you from the city wall, among the Zaporozhtzi. She said
to me, 'Go tell the warrior: if he remembers me, let him come to me;
Taras Bulba and Other Tales |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Venus and Adonis by William Shakespeare: For on the grass she lies as she were slain
Till his breath breatheth life in her again.
He wrings her nose, he strikes her on the cheeks,
He bends her fingers, holds her pulses hard, 476
He chafes her lips; a thousand ways he seeks
To mend the hurt that his unkindness marr'd:
He kisses her; and she, by her good will,
Will never rise, so he will kiss her still. 480
The night of sorrow now is turn'd to day:
Her two blue windows faintly she up-heaveth,
Like the fair sun, when in his fresh array
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