| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Herland by Charlotte Gilman: these people were of Aryan stock, and were once in contact with
the best civilization of the old world. They were "white," but
somewhat darker than our northern races because of their constant
exposure to sun and air.
The country was far larger then, including much land beyond
the pass, and a strip of coast. They had ships, commerce, an army,
a king--for at that time they were what they so calmly called us
--a bi-sexual race.
What happened to them first was merely a succession of
historic misfortunes such as have befallen other nations often
enough. They were decimated by war, driven up from their
Herland |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia by Samuel Johnson: much unobserved. I have lived till now within the circuit of the
mountains, and yet cannot walk abroad without the sight of
something which I had never beheld before, or never heeded."
"This business of a poet," said Imlac, "is to examine, not the
individual, but the species; to remark general properties and large
appearances. He does not number the streaks of the tulip, or
describe the different shades of the verdure of the forest. He is
to exhibit in his portraits of nature such prominent and striking
features as recall the original to every mind, and must neglect the
minuter discriminations, which one may have remarked and another
have neglected, for those characteristics which are alike obvious
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Charmides and Other Poems by Oscar Wilde: Till the faint air was troubled with the song
From the wan mouths that call on bleeding Thammuz all night long.
But when the doves had reached their wonted goal
Where the wide stair of orbed marble dips
Its snows into the sea, her fluttering soul
Just shook the trembling petals of her lips
And passed into the void, and Venus knew
That one fair maid the less would walk amid her retinue,
And bade her servants carve a cedar chest
With all the wonder of this history,
Within whose scented womb their limbs should rest
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