| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Life in the Iron-Mills by Rebecca Davis: He had not quite understood it before; but now he did. Not for
days or years, but never!--that was it.
How clear the light fell on that stall in front of the market!
and how like a picture it was, the dark-green heaps of corn, and
the crimson beets, and golden melons! There was another with
game: how the light flickered on that pheasant's breast, with
the purplish blood dripping over the brown feathers! He could
see the red shining of the drops, it was so near. In one minute
he could be down there. It was just a step. So easy, as it
seemed, so natural to go! Yet it could never be--not in all the
thousands of years to come--that he should put his foot on that
 Life in the Iron-Mills |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Enemies of Books by William Blades: by certain binders, who seem to have an ingrained antipathy to rough
edges and large margins, which of course are, in their view,
made by Nature as food for the shaving tub.
De Rome, a celebrated bookbinder of the eighteenth century,
who was nicknamed by Dibdin "The Great Cropper," was, although in
private life an estimable man, much addicted to the vice of reducing
the margins of all books sent to him to bind. So far did he go,
that he even spared not a fine copy of Froissart's Chronicles,
on vellum, in which was the autograph of the well-known book-lover,
De Thou, but cropped it most cruelly.
Owners, too, have occasionally diseased minds with regard to margins.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Othello by William Shakespeare: And seeke to effect it to my vttermost.
Exit
Cas. I humbly thanke your Ladyship.
Enter Bianca.
Bian. 'Saue you (Friend Cassio.)
Cassio. What make you from home?
How is't with you, my most faire Bianca?
Indeed (sweet Loue) I was comming to your house
Bian. And I was going to your Lodging, Cassio.
What? keepe a weeke away? Seuen dayes, and Nights?
Eight score eight houres? And Louers absent howres
 Othello |