| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Adam Bede by George Eliot: tragedy of human life is likely to continue for a long time to
come, in spite of mental philosophers who are ready with the best
receipts for avoiding all mistakes of the kind.
Our good Adam had no fine words into which he could put his
feeling for Hetty: he could not disguise mystery in this way with
the appearance of knowledge; he called his love frankly a mystery,
as you have heard him. He only knew that the sight and memory of
her moved him deeply, touching the spring of all love and
tenderness, all faith and courage within him. How could he
imagine narrowness, selfishness, hardness in her? He created the
mind he believed in out of his own, which was large, unselfish,
Adam Bede |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Bronte Sisters: perish of inanition.'
'Never mind our kind friends: if they can part our bodies, it is
enough; in God's name, let them not sunder our souls!' cried I, in
terror lest she should deem it her duty to deny us this last
remaining consolation.
'But no letters can pass between us here,' said she, 'without
giving fresh food for scandal; and when I departed, I had intended
that my new abode should be unknown to you as to the rest of the
world; not that I should doubt your word if you promised not to
visit me, but I thought you would be more tranquil in your own mind
if you knew you could not do it, and likely to find less difficulty
The Tenant of Wildfell Hall |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Bickerstaff-Partridge Papers by Jonathan Swift: men have contended that the whole is a cheat; that it is absurd
and ridiculous to imagine, the stars can have any influence at
all upon human actions, thoughts, or inclinations: And whoever
has not bent his studies that way, may be excused for thinking
so, when he sees in how wretched a manner that noble art is
treated by a few mean illiterate traders between us and the
stars; who import a yearly stock of nonsense, lyes, folly, and
impertinence, which they offer to the world as genuine from the
planets, tho' they descend from no greater a height than their
own brains.
I intend in a short time to publish a large and rational defence
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