| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from De Profundis by Oscar Wilde: would get something at the house of the poor. Those who have much
are often greedy; those who have little always share. I would not
a bit mind sleeping in the cool grass in summer, and when winter
came on sheltering myself by the warm close-thatched rick, or under
the penthouse of a great barn, provided I had love in my heart.
The external things of life seem to me now of no importance at all.
You can see to what intensity of individualism I have arrived - or
am arriving rather, for the journey is long, and 'where I walk
there are thorns.'
Of course I know that to ask alms on the highway is not to be my
lot, and that if ever I lie in the cool grass at night-time it will
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Rape of Lucrece by William Shakespeare: Look, as the full-fed hound or gorged hawk,
Unapt for tender smell or speedy flight,
Make slow pursuit, or altogether balk
The prey wherein by nature they delight;
So surfeit-taking Tarquin fares this night:
His taste delicious, in digestion souring,
Devours his will, that liv'd by foul devouring.
O deeper sin than bottomless conceit
Can comprehend in still imagination!
Drunken desire must vomit his receipt,
Ere he can see his own abomination.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Spirit of the Border by Zane Grey: Almost blinded by horror, and staggering with weakness, Joe turned to leave
the cabin. Realizing that he was seriously, perhaps dangerously, wounded he
wisely thought he must not leave the place without weapons. He had marked the
pegs where the renegade's rifle hung, and had been careful to keep between
that and his enemies. He took down the gun and horns, which were attached to
it, and, with one last shuddering glance at poor Kate, left the place.
He was conscious of a queer lightness in his head, but he suffered no pain.
His garments were dripping with blood. He did not know how much of it was his,
or the Indian's. Instinct rather than sight was his guide. He grew weaker and
weaker; his head began to whirl, yet he kept on, knowing that life and freedom
were his if he found Whispering Winds. He gained the top of the ridge; his
The Spirit of the Border |
