| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from An Inland Voyage by Robert Louis Stevenson: was scoring points against him every stroke of my paddle, every
turn of the stream. I have rarely had better profit of my life.
For I think we may look upon our little private war with death
somewhat in this light. If a man knows he will sooner or later be
robbed upon a journey, he will have a bottle of the best in every
inn, and look upon all his extravagances as so much gained upon the
thieves. And above all, where instead of simply spending, he makes
a profitable investment for some of his money, when it will be out
of risk of loss. So every bit of brisk living, and above all when
it is healthful, is just so much gained upon the wholesale filcher,
death. We shall have the less in our pockets, the more in our
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Secret Agent by Joseph Conrad: Stevie suddenly proceeded to get down from the box. There were
shouts on the pavement, people ran forward, the driver pulled up,
whispering curses of indignation and astonishment. Winnie lowered
the window, and put her head out, white as a ghost. In the depths
of the cab, her mother was exclaiming, in tones of anguish: "Is
that boy hurt? Is that boy hurt?"
Stevie was not hurt, he had not even fallen, but excitement as
usual had robbed him of the power of connected speech. He could do
no more than stammer at the window. "Too heavy. Too heavy."
Winnie put out her hand on to his shoulder.
"Stevie! Get up on the box directly, and don't try to get down
The Secret Agent |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Soul of the Far East by Percival Lowell: to which they will all eventually be borne, a man makes his life
journey in strict company with his kin.
A man's life is thus but an undivisible fraction of the family life.
How essentially so will appear from the following slight sketch of it.
To begin at the beginning, his birth is a very important event--for
the household, at which no one fails to rejoice except the new-comer.
He cries. The general joy, however, depends somewhat upon his sex.
If the baby chances to be a boy, everybody is immensely pleased; if
a girl, there is considerably less effusion shown. In the latter
case the more impulsive relatives are unmistakably sorry; the more
philosophic evidently hope for better luck next time. Both kinds
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