| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Lady Windermere's Fan by Oscar Wilde: LORD WINDERMERE. Oh, I am not going to mince words for you. I
know you thoroughly.
MRS. ERLYNNE. [Looks steadily at him.] I question that.
LORD WINDERMERE. I DO know you. For twenty years of your life you
lived without your child, without a thought of your child. One day
you read in the papers that she had married a rich man. You saw
your hideous chance. You knew that to spare her the ignominy of
learning that a woman like you was her mother, I would endure
anything. You began your blackmailing,
MRS. ERLYNNE. [Shrugging her shoulders.] Don't use ugly words,
Windermere. They are vulgar. I saw my chance, it is true, and
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Footnote to History by Robert Louis Stevenson: a better quarrel, by ourselves of England. I shall have to tell
how the Germans landed and shed blood at Fangalii; it was only in
1876 that we British had our own misconceived little massacre at
Mulinuu. I shall have to tell how the Germans bludgeoned Malietoa
with a sudden call for money; it was something of the suddenest
that Sir Arthur Gordon himself, smarting under a sensible public
affront, made and enforced a somewhat similar demand.
CHAPTER III - THE SORROWS OF LAUPEPA, 1883 TO 1887
YOU ride in a German plantation and see no bush, no soul stirring;
only acres of empty sward, miles of cocoa-nut alley: a desert of
food. In the eyes of the Samoan the place has the attraction of a
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Adieu by Honore de Balzac: frighten the freakish animal; then she caught sight of Philippe, and
darted away, followed by her four-footed friend, to a hedge of elders;
there she uttered the same little cry like a frightened bird, which
the two men had heard near the other gate. Then she climbed an acacia,
and nestling into its tufted top, she watched the stranger with the
inquisitive attention of the forest birds.
"Adieu, adieu, adieu," she said, without the soul communicating one
single intelligent inflexion to the word.
It was uttered impassively, as the bird sings his note.
"She does not recognize me!" cried the colonel, in despair.
"Stephanie! it is Philippe, thy Philippe, PHILIPPE!"
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