| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Tales of Unrest by Joseph Conrad: shaped like the end of a snow-shoe. And in this face that resembled
the face of a fat and fiendishly knowing baby there glittered a pair
of clever, peering, unbelieving black eyes. He wrote verses too.
Rather an ass. But the band of men who trailed at the skirts of his
monumental frock-coat seemed to perceive wonderful things in what he
said. Alvan Hervey put it down to affectation. Those artist chaps,
upon the whole, were so affected. Still, all this was highly
proper--very useful to him--and his wife seemed to like it--as if she
also had derived some distinct and secret advantage from this
intellectual connection. She received her mixed and decorous guests
with a kind of tall, ponderous grace, peculiarly her own and which
Tales of Unrest |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from U. S. Project Trinity Report by Carl Maag and Steve Rohrer: the radioactive products expected from a nuclear explosion. The test
produced a bright sphere which spread out in an oval form. A column
of smoke and debris rose as high as 15,000 feet before drifting
eastward. The explosion left a shallow crater 1.5 meters deep and 9
meters wide. Monitoring in the area revealed a level of radioactivity
low enough to allow workers to spend several hours in the area (3;
12).
The planned firing date for the TRINITY device was 4 July 1945. On 14
June 1945, Dr. Oppenheimer changed the test date to no earlier than 13
July and no later than 23 July. On 30 June, the earliest firing date
was moved to 16 July, even though better weather was forecast for 18
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf: admitted nothing; and slammed to.
[Here Mr Carmichael, who was reading Virgil, blew out his candle. It
was past midnight.]
3
But what after all is one night? A short space, especially when the
darkness dims so soon, and so soon a bird sings, a cock crows, or a
faint green quickens, like a turning leaf, in the hollow of the wave.
Night, however, succeeds to night. The winter holds a pack of them in
store and deals them equally, they darken. Some of them hold aloft
clear planets, plates of brightness. The autumn trees, ravaged as they
are, take on the flash of tattered flags kindling in the gloom of cool
To the Lighthouse |
