| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Tramp Abroad by Mark Twain: Fielding and Smollett could portray the beastliness
of their day in the beastliest language; we have plenty
of foul subjects to deal with in our day, but we are
not allowed to approach them very near, even with nice
and guarded forms of speech. But not so with Art.
The brush may still deal freely with any subject,
however revolting or indelicate. It makes a body ooze
sarcasm at every pore, to go about Rome and Florence and see
what this last generation has been doing with the statues.
These works, which had stood in innocent nakedness for ages,
are all fig-leaved now. Yes, every one of them.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Dreams & Dust by Don Marquis: Their mood and hers were one,
For she and I were drunk with love
And life and storm and sun!
And while she laughed, the Sun himself
Leapt laughing through the rain
And struck his harper hand along
The ringing coast; and that wind-song
Whose joy is mixed with pain
Forgot the undertone of grief
And joined the jocund strain,
And over every hidden reef
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Montezuma's Daughter by H. Rider Haggard: love him, so truly that it seemed to me as though my father lay
there dying.
'Weep not,' he said, 'for all our life is but a parting. Once I
had a son like you, and ours was the bitterest of farewells. Now I
go to seek for him again who could not come back to me, so weep not
because I die. Good-bye, Thomas Wingfield. May God prosper and
protect you! Now go!'
So I went weeping, and that night, before the dawn, all was over
with Andres de Fonseca. They told me that he was conscious to the
end and died murmuring the name of that son of whom he spoke in his
last words to me.
Montezuma's Daughter |
