| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from When the Sleeper Wakes by H. G. Wells: gliding up the air, swept horizontally forward in a
wide curve, and vanished again in the steaming specks
of snow. And, through the ribs of its body, Graham
saw two little men, very minute and active, searching
the snowy areas about him, as it seemed to him, with
field glasses. For a second they were clear, then hazy
through a thick whirl of snow, then small and distant,
and in a minute they were gone.
"Now!" cried his companion. "Come!"
He pulled Graham's sleeve, and incontinently the
two were running headlong down the arcade of ironwork
When the Sleeper Wakes |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Mrs. Warren's Profession by George Bernard Shaw: class of people I can introduce you to, no lady or gentleman
would so far forget themselves as to discuss my business affairs
or your mothers. No man can offer you a safer position.
VIVIE [studying him curiously] I suppose you really think youre
getting on famously with me.
CROFTS. Well, I hope I may flatter myself that you think better
of me than you did at first.
VIVIE [quietly] I hardly find you worth thinking about at all
now. When I think of the society that tolerates you, and the
laws that protect you! when I think of how helpless nine out of
ten young girls would be in the hands of you and my mother! the
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Verses 1889-1896 by Rudyard Kipling: Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves, "It's pretty, but is it Art?"
Wherefore he called to his wife, and fled to fashion his work anew --
The first of his race who cared a fig for the first, most dread review;
And he left his lore to the use of his sons -- and that was a glorious gain
When the Devil chuckled "Is it Art?" in the ear of the branded Cain.
They fought and they talked in the North and the South,
they talked and they fought in the West,
Till the waters rose on the pitiful land, and the poor Red Clay had rest --
Had rest till that dank blank-canvas dawn when the dove was preened to start,
Verses 1889-1896 |
