| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Brother of Daphne by Dornford Yates: matter of fact, the path down is an easy one, there are no
flints, and there is a singular paucity of seaweed of any
description. On the other hand, the sun is hot, the sand is
soft, and I have already selected that rock, in the seclusion of
whose shade I shall prepare myself for the waves. Sorry it's too
dangerous for you. I'll write about some bathing-machines
to-night. Do you like them with red or green doors?"
Without waiting for their reply, which would probably have been
of the caustic and provocative type, I turned down the path I had
not trodden for some three years. At one of the bends I looked
up and saw them moving north along the coast-line.
The Brother of Daphne |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Modest Proposal by Jonathan Swift: lawful occupation of begging; and it is exactly at one year old
that I propose to provide for them in such a manner, as, instead
of being a charge upon their parents, or the parish, or wanting
food and raiment for the rest of their lives, they shall, on the
contrary, contribute to the feeding, and partly to the cloathing
of many thousands.
There is likewise another great advantage in my scheme, that it
will prevent those voluntary abortions, and that horrid practice
of women murdering their bastard children, alas! too frequent
among us, sacrificing the poor innocent babes, I doubt, more to
avoid the expence than the shame, which would move tears and pity
A Modest Proposal |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Early Short Fiction of Edith Wharton by Edith Wharton: preached, the laughter of the ladies listening on the hillside to
the quips of the Decameron, while plague-struck Florence howled
beneath them--all this and much more I heard, joined in strange
unison with voices earlier and more remote, fierce, passionate,
or tender, yet subdued to such awful harmony that I thought of
the song that the morning stars sang together and felt as though
it were sounding in my ears. My heart beat to suffocation, the
tears burned my lids, the joy, the mystery of it seemed too
intolerable to be borne. I could not understand even then the
words of the song; but I knew that if there had been someone at
my side who could have heard it with me, we might have found the
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