| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Madam How and Lady Why by Charles Kingsley: Where are we now? What are those high hills, far away to the
left, above the lowlands and woods?
Those are the shore of the Old World--the Welsh mountains.
And in front of us I can see nothing but flat land. Where is
that?
That is the mouth of the Severn and Avon; where we shall be in
half an hour more.
And there, on the right, over the low hills, I can see higher
ones, blue and hazy.
Those are an island of the Old World, called now the Mendip Hills;
and we are steaming along the great strait between the Mendips and
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Margret Howth: A Story of To-day by Rebecca Harding Davis: bitterly. Christ was a dim, ideal power, heaven far-off. She
doubted if it held anything as real as that which she had lost.
As if to bring back the old times more vividly to her, there
happened one of those curious little coincidences with which
Fate, we think, has nothing to do. She heard a quick step along
the clay road, and a muddy little terrier jumped up, barking,
beside her. She stopped with a suddenness strange in her slow
movements. "TIGER!" she said, stroking its head with passionate
eagerness. The dog licked her hand, smelt her clothes to know if
she were the same: it was two years since he had seen her. She
sat there, softly stroking him. Presently there was a sound of
Margret Howth: A Story of To-day |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Jolly Corner by Henry James: hard-pressed ALTER EGO, to be confronted with such a type.
He liked however the open shutters; he opened everywhere those Mrs.
Muldoon had closed, closing them as carefully afterwards, so that
she shouldn't notice: he liked - oh this he did like, and above
all in the upper rooms! - the sense of the hard silver of the
autumn stars through the window-panes, and scarcely less the flare
of the street-lamps below, the white electric lustre which it would
have taken curtains to keep out. This was human actual social;
this was of the world he had lived in, and he was more at his ease
certainly for the countenance, coldly general and impersonal, that
all the while and in spite of his detachment it seemed to give him.
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