|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Sons and Lovers by D. H. Lawrence:
preparing dinner. She looked so perfectly in keeping with the
little kitchen, ruddy and busy. He kissed her and sat down to watch.
The room was small and cosy. The sofa was covered all over with a
sort of linen in squares of red and pale blue, old, much washed,
but pretty. There was a stuffed owl in a case over a corner cupboard.
The sunlight came through the leaves of the scented geraniums
in the window. She was cooking a chicken in his honour.
It was their cottage for the day, and they were man and wife.
He beat the eggs for her and peeled the potatoes. He thought she
gave a feeling of home almost like his mother; and no one could
look more beautiful, with her tumbled curls, when she was flushed
Sons and Lovers
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Child of Storm by H. Rider Haggard:
would steal its young."
"I am glad to see that you are no boaster, Saduko," said Panda. "Would
that more of the Zulus were like you in that matter, for then I must not
listen to so many loud songs about little things. At least, Bangu was
killed and his proud tribe humbled, and, for reasons of state, I am glad
that this happened without my moving a regiment or being mixed up with
the business, for I tell you that there are some of my family who loved
Bangu. But I--I loved your father, Matiwane, whom Bangu butchered, for
we were brought up together as boys--yes, and served together in the
same regiment, the Amawombe, when the Wild One, my brother, ruled" (he
meant Chaka, for among the Zulus the names of dead kings are
Child of Storm
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Reef by Edith Wharton:
Sophy Viner appeared almost immediately, dressed for
departure, her little bag on her arm. She was still pale to
the point of haggardness, but with a light upon her that
struck Anna with surprise. Or was it, perhaps, that she was
looking at the girl with new eyes: seeing her, for the first
time, not as Effie's governess, not as Owen's bride, but as
the embodiment of that unknown peril lurking in the
background of every woman's thoughts about her lover? Anna,
at any rate, with a sudden sense of estrangement, noted in
her graces and snares never before perceived. It was only
the flash of a primitive instinct, but it lasted long enough