| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Mrs. Warren's Profession by George Bernard Shaw: society, and has the air of being a lady. Imagine m e in a
cathedral town! Why, the very rooks in the trees would find me
out even if I could stand the dulness of it. I must have work
and excitement, or I should go melancholy mad. And what else is
there for me to do? The life suits me: I'm fit for it and not
for anything else. If I didnt do it somebody else would; so I
dont do any real harm by it. And then it brings in money; and I
like making money. No: it's no use: I cant give it up--not for
anybody. But what need you know about it? I'll never mention
it. I'll keep Crofts away. I'll not trouble you much: you see I
have to be constantly running about from one place to another.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Alkahest by Honore de Balzac: when she lived in town, she seldom went into society; society came to
her. She received every Wednesday, and gave three grand dinners every
month. Her friends felt that she was more at ease in her own house;
where, indeed, her passion for her husband and the care she bestowed
on the education of her children tended to keep her.
Such had been, up to the year 1809, the general course of this
household, which had nothing in common with the ordinary run of
conventional ideas, though the outward life of these two persons,
secretly full of love and joy, was like that of other people.
Balthazar Claes's passion for his wife, which she had known how to
perpetuate, seemed, to use his own expression, to spend its inborn
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Frankenstein by Mary Shelley: his eyes half closed and his limbs hanging listlessly--I was roused
by half a dozen of the sailors, who demanded admission into the cabin.
They entered, and their leader addressed me. He told me that he
and his companions had been chosen by the other sailors
to come in deputation to me to make me a requisition which,
in justice, I could not refuse. We were immured in ice and should
probably never escape, but they feared that if, as was possible,
the ice should dissipate and a free passage be opened, I should be
rash enough to continue my voyage and lead them into fresh dangers,
after they might happily have surmounted this. They insisted,
therefore, that I should engage with a solemn promise that if the
Frankenstein |
