| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Through the Looking-Glass by Lewis Carroll: one to give orders, so, as an experiment, she called out `Waiter!
Bring back the pudding!' and there it was again in a moment like
a conjuring-trick. It was so large that she couldn't help
feeling a LITTLE shy with it, as she had been with the mutton;
however, she conquered her shyness by a great effort and cut a
slice and handed it to the Red Queen.
`What impertinence!' said the Pudding. `I wonder how you'd
like it, if I were to cut a slice out of YOU, you creature!'
It spoke in a thick, suety sort of voice, and Alice hadn't a
word to say in reply: she could only sit and look at it and gasp.
`Make a remark,' said the Red Queen: `it's ridiculous to leave
Through the Looking-Glass |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Resurrection by Leo Tolstoy: the lodging was searched by the police and one of the
revolutionists fired a shot in the dark, she pleaded guilty.
As soon as she had learned to know Mary Pavlovna, Katusha noticed
that, whatever the conditions she found herself in, Mary Pavlovna
never thought of herself, but was always anxious to serve, to
help some one, in matters small or great. One of her present
companions, Novodvoroff, said of her that she devoted herself to
philanthropic amusements. And this was true. The interest of her
whole life lay in the search for opportunities of serving others.
This kind of amusement had become the habit, the business of her
life. And she did it all so naturally that those who knew her no
Resurrection |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Personal Record by Joseph Conrad: began to feel crushed before we reached Zurich. He argued in
railway trains, in lake steamboats, he had argued away for me the
obligatory sunrise on the Righi, by Jove! Of his devotion to his
unworthy pupil there can be no doubt. He had proved it already
by two years of unremitting and arduous care. I could not hate
him. But he had been crushing me slowly, and when he started to
argue on the top of the Furca Pass he was perhaps nearer a
success than either he or I imagined. I listened to him in
despairing silence, feeling that ghostly, unrealized, and desired
sea of my dreams escape from the unnerved grip of my will.
The enthusiastic old Englishman had passed--and the argument went
A Personal Record |
