| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf: Minta Doyle and Paul Rayley had not come back then. That could only
mean, Mrs Ramsay thought, one thing. She must accept him, or she must
refuse him. This going off after luncheon for a walk, even though
Andrew was with them--what could it mean? except that she had decided,
rightly, Mrs Ramsay thought (and she was very, very fond of Minta), to
accept that good fellow, who might not be brilliant, but then, thought
Mrs Ramsay, realising that James was tugging at her, to make her go on
reading aloud the Fisherman and his Wife, she did in her own heart
infinitely prefer boobies to clever men who wrote dissertations;
Charles Tansley, for instance. Anyhow it must have happened, one way
or the other, by now.
To the Lighthouse |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Misalliance by George Bernard Shaw: HYPATIA. The cat's out of the bag, Johnny, about everybody. They
were all beforehand with you: papa, Lord Summerhays, Bentley and all.
Dont you let them laugh at you.
JOHNNY. _[a grin slowly overspreading his countenance]_ Well, theres
no use my pretending to be surprised at you, Governor, is there? I
hope you got it as hot as I did. Mind, Miss Shepanoska: it wasnt
lost on me. I'm a thinking man. I kept my temper. Youll admit that.
LINA. _{frankly]_ Oh yes. I do not quarrel. You are what is called
a chump; but you are not a bad sort of chump.
JOHNNY. Thank you. Well, if a chump may have an opinion, I should
put it at this. You make, I suppose, ten pounds a night off your own
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Blue Flower by Henry van Dyke: fold of his, girdle and drew out three great gems--one blue as
a fragment of the night sky, one redder than a ray of sunrise,
and one as pure as the peak of a snow-mountain at
twilight--and laid them on the outspread scrolls before him.
But his friends looked on with strange and alien eyes. A
veil of doubt and mistrust came over their faces, like a fog
creeping up from the marshes to hide the hills. They glanced
at each other with looks of wonder and pity, as those who have
listened to incredible sayings, the story of a wild vision, or
the proposal of an impossible enterprise.
At last Tigranes said: "Artaban, this is a vain dream.
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