| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Emma by Jane Austen: enough for Mr. Elton, no doubt; accomplished enough for Highbury--
handsome enough--to look plain, probably, by Harriet's side.
As to connexion, there Emma was perfectly easy; persuaded,
that after all his own vaunted claims and disdain of Harriet,
he had done nothing. On that article, truth seemed attainable.
What she was, must be uncertain; but who she was, might be found out;
and setting aside the 10,000 l., it did not appear that she was at
all Harriet's superior. She brought no name, no blood, no alliance.
Miss Hawkins was the youngest of the two daughters of a Bristol--
merchant, of course, he must be called; but, as the whole of the
profits of his mercantile life appeared so very moderate, it was
Emma |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Chance by Joseph Conrad: class. All calculations were in his favour; but, chance being
incalculable, he fell upon an individuality whom it is much easier
to define by opprobrious names than to classify in a calm and
scientific spirit--but an individuality certainly, and a temperament
as well. Rare? No. There is a certain amount of what I would
politely call unscrupulousness in all of us. Think for instance of
the excellent Mrs. Fyne, who herself, and in the bosom of her
family, resembled a governess of a conventional type. Only, her
mental excesses were theoretical, hedged in by so much humane
feeling and conventional reserves, that they amounted to no more
than mere libertinage of thought; whereas the other woman, the
Chance |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Poems of William Blake by William Blake: And it shall tell thee why it glitters in the morning sky.
And why it scatters its bright beauty thro the humid air.
Descend O little cloud & hover before the eyes of Thel.
The Cloud descended and the Lily bowd her modest head:
And went to mind her numerous charge among the verdant grass.
II.
O little Cloud the virgin said, I charge thee to tell me
Why thou complainest now when in one hour thou fade away:
Then we shall seek thee but not find: ah Thel is like to thee.
I pass away, yet I complain, and no one hears my voice.
The Cloud then shewd his golden head & his bright form emerg'd.
Poems of William Blake |
