| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Bickerstaff-Partridge Papers by Jonathan Swift: distracted with being called Widow Partridge, when she knows its
false; and once a term she is cited into the court, to take out
letters of administration. But the greatest grievance is, a
paultry quack, that takes up my calling just under my nose, and
in his printed directions with N.B. says, He lives in the house
of the late ingenious Mr. John Partridge, an eminent practitioner
in leather, physick and astrology.
But to show how far the wicked spirit of envy, malice and
resentment can hurry some men, my nameless old persecutor had
provided me a monument at the stone-cutter's and would have
erected it in the parish-church; and this piece of notorious and
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence: Gaskell and George Eliot and Miss Mitford all rolled in one, with a
great deal more, that these women left out.' Once started, Mrs Bolton
was better than any book, about the lives of the people. She knew them
all so intimately, and had such a peculiar, flamey zest in all their
affairs, it was wonderful, if just a TRIFLE humiliating to listen to
her. At first she had not ventured to 'talk Tevershall', as she called
it, to Clifford. But once started, it went on. Clifford was listening
for 'material', and he found it in plenty. Connie realized that his
so-called genius was just this: a perspicuous talent for personal
gossip, clever and apparently detached. Mrs Bolton, of course, was very
warm when she 'talked Tevershall'. Carried away, in fact. And it was
Lady Chatterley's Lover |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Perfect Wagnerite: A Commentary on the Niblung's Ring by George Bernard Shaw: immortal soul which was at that time conceded even to the
humblest characters in fiction, and to accept mischievousness,
cruelty, and utter incapacity for sympathy as the inevitable
consequence of his magnificent bodily and mental health.
In short, though men felt all the charm of abounding life and
abandonment to its impulses, they dared not, in their deep
self-mistrust, conceive it otherwise than as a force making for
evil--one which must lead to universal ruin unless checked and
literally mortified by selfrenunciation in obedience to
superhuman guidance, or at least to some reasoned system of
morals. When it became apparent to the cleverest of them that no
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