| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath by H. P. Lovecraft: night, tethering his zebra to a sapling and wrapping himself well
in his blankets before going to sleep. And all through the night
a voonith howled distantly from the shore of some hidden pool,
but Carter felt no fear of that amphibious terror, since he had
been told with certainty that not one of them dares even approach
the slope of Ngranek.
In the clear sunshine of morning Carter
began the long ascent, taking his zebra as far as that useful
beast could go, but tying it to a stunted ash tree when the floor
of the thin wood became too steep. Thereafter he scrambled up
alone; first through the forest with its ruins of old villages
The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Confidence by Henry James: "That won't do--you don't mean it. You never cared--you were too proud
to care; and when I spoke to you about my fault, you did n't even know
what I meant. You might have told me, therefore, that my remorse was idle,
that what I said to Gordon had not been of the smallest consequence,
and that the rupture had come from yourself."
For some time Angela said nothing, then at last she gave him one of the deeply
serious looks with which her face was occasionally ornamented.
"If you want really to know, then--can't you see that your remorse seemed to
me connected in a certain way with your affection; a sort of guarantee of it?
You thought you had injured some one or other, and that seemed to be mixed up
with your loving me, and therefore I let it alone."
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Garden Party by Katherine Mansfield: by Janey. "Let's talk. Let's get down to things. Tell me"--and as Janey
perched on his knees he leaned back and drew her into the deep, ugly chair-
-"tell me you're really glad to be back, Janey."
"Yes, darling, I am glad," she said.
But just as when he embraced her he felt she would fly away, so Hammond
never knew--never knew for dead certain that she was as glad as he was.
How could he know? Would he ever know? Would he always have this craving-
-this pang like hunger, somehow, to make Janey so much part of him that
there wasn't any of her to escape? He wanted to blot out everybody,
everything. He wished now he'd turned off the light. That might have
brought her nearer. And now those letters from the children rustled in her
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