| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Lay Morals by Robert Louis Stevenson: shall assign some of the glory of the siege of Doubting
Castle to his favourite Valiant-for-the-Truth, who did not
meet with the besiegers till long after, at that dangerous
corner by Deadman's Lane. And, with all inconsistencies and
freedoms, there is a power shown in these sequences of cuts:
a power of joining on one action or one humour to another; a
power of following out the moods, even of the dismal
subterhuman fiends engendered by the artist's fancy; a power
of sustained continuous realisation, step by step, in
nature's order, that can tell a story, in all its ins and
outs, its pauses and surprises, fully and figuratively, like
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Breaking Point by Mary Roberts Rinehart: I think he feels that he ought not to see her until - "
"Come, come," Walter Wheeler said impatiently. "Don't try to find
excuses for him. Let's have the truth, David. I guess I can
stand it."
Poor David, divided between his love for Dick and his native honesty,
threw out his hands.
"I don't understand it, Wheeler," he said. "You and I wouldn't, I
suppose. We are not the sort to lose the world for a woman. The
plain truth is that there is not a trace of Judson Clark in him
to-day, save one. That's the woman."
When Wheeler said nothing, but sat twisting his hat in his hands,
The Breaking Point |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Of The Nature of Things by Lucretius: Remain despoiled alone of colour: so,
Are they from warmth dissevered and from cold
And from hot exhalations; and they move,
Both sterile of sound and dry of juice; and throw
Not any odour from their proper bodies.
Just as, when undertaking to prepare
A liquid balm of myrrh and marjoram,
And flower of nard, which to our nostrils breathes
Odour of nectar, first of all behooves
Thou seek, as far as find thou may and can,
The inodorous olive-oil (which never sends
Of The Nature of Things |
