| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Shadow Line by Joseph Conrad: the awakened sparkle of the sea, with the sense of
motion and a feeling of unwonted freshness. Then,
all at once, as if disdaining to carry farther the
sorry jest, it dropped and died out completely in
less than five minutes. The ship's head swung
where it listed; the stilled sea took on the polish of a
steel plate in the calm.
I went below, not because I meant to take some
rest, but simply because I couldn't bear to look at
it just then. The indefatigable Ransome was busy
in the saloon. It had become a regular practice
The Shadow Line |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from She Stoops to Conquer by Oliver Goldsmith: TONY. As sure as can be, one of them must be the gentleman that's
coming down to court my sister. Do they seem to be Londoners?
LANDLORD. I believe they may. They look woundily like Frenchmen.
TONY. Then desire them to step this way, and I'll set them right in a
twinkling. (Exit Landlord.) Gentlemen, as they mayn't be good enough
company for you, step down for a moment, and I'll be with you in the
squeezing of a lemon. [Exeunt mob.]
TONY. (solus). Father-in-law has been calling me whelp and hound this
half year. Now, if I pleased, I could be so revenged upon the old
grumbletonian. But then I'm afraid--afraid of what? I shall soon be
worth fifteen hundred a year, and let him frighten me out of THAT if he
She Stoops to Conquer |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia by Samuel Johnson: the planets perform their revolutions. Everything must supply you
with contemplation, and renew the consciousness of your own
dignity."
"Lady," answered he, "let the gay and the vigorous expect pleasure
in their excursions: it is enough that age can attain ease. To me
the world has lost its novelty. I look round, and see what I
remember to have seen in happier days. I rest against a tree, and
consider that in the same shade I once disputed upon the annual
overflow of the Nile with a friend who is now silent in the grave.
I cast my eyes upwards, fix them on the changing moon, and think
with pain on the vicissitudes of life. I have ceased to take much
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