| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Phoenix and the Turtle by William Shakespeare: So between them love did shine,
That the turtle saw his right
Flaming in the phoenix' sight:
Either was the other's mine.
Property was thus appall'd,
That the self was not the same;
Single nature's double name
Neither two nor one was call'd.
Reason, in itself confounded,
Saw division grow together;
To themselves yet either-neither,
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Second Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling: Messua and her husband had died of snake-bite. THAT was all
arranged, and the only thing now was to kill the Wolf-child.
They did not happen to have seen anything of such a creature?
The charcoal-burners looked round cautiously, and thanked their
stars they had not; but they had no doubt that so brave a man as
Buldeo would find him if any one could. The sun was getting
rather low, and they had an idea that they would push on to
Buldeo's village and see that wicked witch. Buldeo said that,
though it was his duty to kill the Devil-child, he could not
think of letting a party of unarmed men go through the Jungle,
which might produce the Wolf-demon at any minute, without his
The Second Jungle Book |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Life in the Iron-Mills by Rebecca Davis: tightness of his hold would strengthen his sense of possession,
he went aimlessly down the street. It was his watch at the
mill. He need not go, need never go again, thank God!--shaking
off the thought with unspeakable loathing.
Shall I go over the history of the hours of that night? how the
man wandered from one to another of his old haunts, with a half-
consciousness of bidding them farewell,--lanes and alleys and
back-yards where the mill-hands lodged,--noting, with a new
eagerness, the filth and drunkenness, the pig-pens, the ash-
heaps covered with potato-skins, the bloated, pimpled women at
the doors, with a new disgust, a new sense of sudden triumph,
Life in the Iron-Mills |
