| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Confessio Amantis by John Gower: For loves lawe is out of reule,
That of tomoche or of tolite
Welnyh is every man to wyte, 20
And natheles ther is noman
In al this world so wys, that can
Of love tempre the mesure,
Bot as it falth in aventure:
For wit ne strengthe may noght helpe,
And he which elles wolde him yelpe
Is rathest throwen under fote,
Ther can no wiht therof do bote.
Confessio Amantis |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from An Inland Voyage by Robert Louis Stevenson: reward were received in dispiriting silence. We were plainly a
pair of Bluebeards to the children; they might speak to us in
public places, and where they had the advantage of numbers; but it
was another thing to venture off alone with two uncouth and
legendary characters, who had dropped from the clouds upon their
hamlet this quiet afternoon, sashed and be-knived, and with a
flavour of great voyages. The owner of the granary came to our
assistance, singled out one little fellow and threatened him with
corporalities; or I suspect we should have had to find the way for
ourselves. As it was, he was more frightened at the granary man
than the strangers, having perhaps had some experience of the
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Life in the Iron-Mills by Rebecca Davis: Wolfe was remarkable quiet, and went into his cell. Found him
very low; bed all bloody. Doctor said he had been bleeding at
the lungs. He was as weak as a cat; yet if ye'll b'lieve me, he
tried to get a-past me and get out. I just carried him like a
baby, and threw him on the pallet. Three days after, he tried
it again: that time reached the wall. Lord help you! he fought
like a tiger,--giv' some terrible blows. Fightin' for life, you
see; for he can't live long, shut up in the stone crib down
yonder. Got a death-cough now. 'T took two of us to bring him
down that day; so I just put the irons on his feet. There he
sits, in there. Goin' to-morrow, with a batch more of 'em.
Life in the Iron-Mills |
