| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Herodias by Gustave Flaubert: drunkards of Ephraim, who dwelt in the fertile valleys and stagger
with the fumes of wine!
"May they disappear like running water; like the slug that sinks into
the sand as it moves; like an abortion that never sees the light!
"And thou too, Moab! hide thyself in the midst of the cypress, like
the sparrow; in caverns, like the wild hare! The gates of the fortress
shall be crushed more easily than nut-shells; the walls shall crumble;
cities shall burn; and the scourge of God shall not cease! He shall
cause your bodies to be bathed in your own blood, like wool in the
dyer's vat. He shall rend you, as with a harrow; He shall scatter the
remains of your bodies from the tops of the mountains!"
Herodias |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Life of the Spider by J. Henri Fabre: which contains the eggs, has none of the ingenious structure which
we admired in the Banded and in the Silky Epeira. No longer do we
see a graceful balloon-shape nor yet a paraboloid with a starry
base; no longer a tough, waterproof satin stuff; no longer a
swan's-down resembling a fleecy, russet cloud; no longer an inner
keg in which the eggs are packed. The art of stout fabrics and of
walls within walls is unknown here.
The work of the Cross Spider is a pill of white silk, wrought into
a yielding felt, through which the new-born Spiders will easily
work their way, without the aid of the mother, long since dead, and
without having to rely upon its bursting at the given hour. It is
The Life of the Spider |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Son of Tarzan by Edgar Rice Burroughs: thought her dead than she was in reality now that he had seen
her living--living in the guise of a refinement that had
transfigured and sanctified her.
He had loved her before, now he worshipped her. He knew
that he might never possess her now, but at least he might
see her. From a distance he might look upon her. Perhaps he
might serve her; but never must she guess that he had found her
or that he lived.
He wondered if she ever thought of him--if the happy days
that they had spent together never recurred to her mind.
It seemed unbelievable that such could be the case, and yet,
The Son of Tarzan |
