|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Misalliance by George Bernard Shaw:
HYPATIA. _[coming out of the swing, and advancing between Percival
and Lord Summerhays]_ I must say that you have behaved like a perfect
gentleman, Mr. Percival.
PERCIVAL. _[first bowing to Hypatia, and then turning with cold
contempt to Gunner, who is standing helpless]_ We need not trouble
you any further. _[Gunner turns vaguely towards the pavilion]._
JOHNNY _[with less refined offensiveness, pointing to the pavilion]_
Thats your way. The gardener will shew you the shortest way into the
road. Go the shortest way.
GUNNER. _[oppressed and disconcerted, hardly knows how to get out of
the room]_ Yes, sir. I-- _[He turns again, appealing to Tarleton]_
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Return of the Native by Thomas Hardy:
Like in form, it had the added softness and finish
of a Raffaelle after Perugino, which, while faithfully
reproducing the original subject, entirely distances the
Charley's eyes rounded with surprise. "Well, you be
a clever lady!" he said, in admiration. "I've been
three weeks learning mine."
"I have heard it before," she quietly observed.
"Now, would you do anything to please me, Charley?"
"I'd do a good deal, miss."
"Would you let me play your part for one night?"
Return of the Native
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Ballads by Robert Louis Stevenson:
In the early fall of the night, Hiopa came to the shore,
And beheld and counted the comers, and lo, they were forty score:
The pelting feet of the babes that ran already and played,
The clean-lipped smile of the boy, the slender breasts of the maid,
And mighty limbs of women, stalwart mothers of men.
The sires stood forth unabashed; but a little back from his ken
Clustered the scarcely nubile, the lads and maids, in a ring,
Fain of each other, afraid of themselves, aware of the king
And aping behaviour, but clinging together with hands and eyes,
With looks that were kind like kisses, and laughter tender as sighs.
There, too, the grandsire stood, raising his silver crest,