| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Sons and Lovers by D. H. Lawrence: into the basement where the gas was burning. They crossed the cold,
damp storeroom, then a long, dreary room with a long table on trestles,
into a smaller, cosy apartment, not very high, which had been
built on to the main building. In this room a small woman with
a red serge blouse, and her black hair done on top of her head,
was waiting like a proud little bantam.
"Here y'are!" said Pappleworth.
"I think it is 'here you are'!" exclaimed Polly. "The girls
have been here nearly half an hour waiting. Just think of the
time wasted!"
"YOU think of getting your work done and not talking so much,"
Sons and Lovers |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Unseen World and Other Essays by John Fiske: take the individual man, we find that he lives his short tale of
years, and that then the visible machinery which connects him
with the past, as well as that which enables him to act in the
present, falls into ruin and is brought to an end. If any germ or
potentiality remains, it is certainly not connected with the
visible order of things." In like manner our race is pretty sure
to come to an end long before the destruction of the planet from
which it now gets its sustenance. And in our authors opinion even
the universe will by and by become "old and effete, no less truly
than the individual: it is a glorious garment this visible
universe, but not an immortal one; we must look elsewhere if we
The Unseen World and Other Essays |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Art of Writing by Robert Louis Stevenson: more attention than he had expected; in his own city, the
relation is reversed, and he stands amazed to be so little
recollected. Elsewhere he is refreshed to see attractive
faces, to remark possible friends; there he scouts the long
streets, with a pang at heart, for the faces and friends that
are no more. Elsewhere he is delighted with the presence of
what is new, there tormented by the absence of what is old.
Elsewhere he is content to be his present self; there he is
smitten with an equal regret for what he once was and for
what he once hoped to be.
He was feeling all this dimly, as he drove from the station,
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