| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Silas Marner by George Eliot: track to the furze bushes. "Mammy!" the little one cried again
and again, stretching itself forward so as almost to escape from
Silas's arms, before he himself was aware that there was something
more than the bush before him--that there was a human body, with
the head sunk low in the furze, and half-covered with the shaken
snow.
CHAPTER XIII
It was after the early supper-time at the Red House, and the
entertainment was in that stage when bashfulness itself had passed
into easy jollity, when gentlemen, conscious of unusual
accomplishments, could at length be prevailed on to dance a
Silas Marner |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Middlemarch by George Eliot: "One must hire servants who will not break things," said Lydgate.
(Certainly, this was reasoning with an imperfect vision of sequences.
But at that period there was no sort of reasoning which was not more
or less sanctioned by men of science.)
Of course it was unnecessary to defer the mention of anything
to mamma, who did not readily take views that were not cheerful,
and being a happy wife herself, had hardly any feeling but pride
in her daughter's marriage. But Rosamond had good reasons for
suggesting to Lydgate that papa should be appealed to in writing.
She prepared for the arrival of the letter by walking with her papa
to the warehouse the next morning, and telling him on the way that
Middlemarch |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Love and Friendship by Jane Austen: Dear Eloisa, yet the Liberty I claim from having a letter to
write of spending an Evening at home with my little Boy, you know
me well enough to be sensible, will of itself be a sufficient
Inducement (if one is necessary) to my maintaining with Pleasure
a Correspondence with you. As to the subject of your letters to
me, whether grave or merry, if they concern you they must be
equally interesting to me; not but that I think the melancholy
Indulgence of your own sorrows by repeating them and dwelling on
them to me, will only encourage and increase them, and that it
will be more prudent in you to avoid so sad a subject; but yet
knowing as I do what a soothing and melancholy Pleasure it must
Love and Friendship |
