| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf: floor above her head the moment they awoke. They came bustling along
the passage. Then the door sprang open and in they came, fresh as
roses, staring, wide awake, as if this coming into the dining-room
after breakfast, which they did every day of their lives, was a
positive event to them, and so on, with one thing after another, all
day long, until she went up to say good-night to them, and found them
netted in their cots like birds among cherries and raspberries, still
making up stories about some little bit of rubbish--something they had
heard, something they had picked up in the garden. They all had their
little treasures... And so she went down and said to her husband, Why
must they grow up and lose it all? Never will they be so happy again.
To the Lighthouse |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Dunwich Horror by H. P. Lovecraft: at midnight on the top of Sentinel Hill where the old table-like
stone stands amidst its tumulus of ancient bones. Considerable
talk was started when Silas Bishop - of the undecayed Bishops
- mentioned having seen the boy running sturdily up that hill
ahead of his mother about an hour before the blaze was remarked.
Silas was rounding up a stray heifer, but he nearly forgot his
mission when he fleetingly spied the two figures in the dim light
of his lantern. They darted almost noiselessly through the underbrush,
and the astonished watcher seemed to think they were entirely
unclothed. Afterwards he could not be sure about the boy, who
may have had some kind of a fringed belt and a pair of dark trunks
The Dunwich Horror |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Girl with the Golden Eyes by Honore de Balzac: "Ah!" said the postman, interrupting the /valet de chambre/ and
observing him attentively, "you are as much a porter as I'm . . ."
Laurent chinked some pieces of gold before the functionary, who began
to smile.
"Come, here's the name of your quarry," he said, taking from his
leather wallet a letter bearing a London stamp, upon which the
address, "To Mademoiselle Paquita Valdes, Rue Saint Lazare, Hotel San-
Real, Paris," was written in long, fine characters, which spoke of a
woman's hand.
"Could you tap a bottle of Chablis, with a few dozen oysters, and a
/filet saute/ with mushrooms to follow it?" said Laurent, who wished
The Girl with the Golden Eyes |
