|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Prufrock/Other Observations by T. S. Eliot:
The last twist of the knife.
Morning at the Window
They are rattling breakfast plates in basement kitchens,
And along the trampled edges of the street
I am aware of the damp souls of housemaids
Sprouting despondently at area gates.
The brown waves of fog toss up to me
Twisted faces from the bottom of the street,
And tear from a passer-by with muddy skirts
An aimless smile that hovers in the air
And vanishes along the level of the roofs.
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Herbert West: Reanimator by H. P. Lovecraft:
some of the more delicate cerebral cells might well have suffered
deterioration. I, myself, still held some curious notions about
the traditional "soul" of man, and felt an awe at the secrets
that might be told by one returning from the dead. I wondered
what sights this placid youth might have seen in inaccessible
spheres, and what he could relate if fully restored to life. But
my wonder was not overwhelming, since for the most part I shared
the materialism of my friend. He was calmer than I as he forced
a large quantity of his fluid into a vein of the body’s arm, immediately
binding the incision securely.
The waiting was gruesome, but
Herbert West: Reanimator
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Several Works by Edgar Allan Poe:
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul has spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!--quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadows on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted--nevermore!
The Masque of the Red Death