| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Black Tulip by Alexandre Dumas: "Certainly, it would have been better," said William, "if
what did happen had not happened. But it cannot be helped
now, and we have had nothing to do with it. Let us push on,
Captain, that we may arrive at Alphen before the message
which the States-General are sure to send to me to the
camp."
The Captain bowed, allowed the Prince to ride ahead and, for
the remainder of the journey, kept at the same respectful
distance as he had done before his Highness called him to
his side.
"How I should wish," William of Orange malignantly muttered
The Black Tulip |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Complete Poems of Longfellow by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the
forest.
This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that
beneath it
Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of
the huntsman
Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Death of the Lion by Henry James: she was looking for she said she had mislaid something that Mr.
Paraday had lent her. I ascertained in a moment that the article
in question is a manuscript, and I've a foreboding that it's the
noble morsel he read me six weeks ago. When I expressed my
surprise that he should have bandied about anything so precious (I
happen to know it's his only copy - in the most beautiful hand in
all the world) Lady Augusta confessed to me that she hadn't had it
from himself, but from Mrs. Wimbush, who had wished to give her a
glimpse of it as a salve for her not being able to stay and hear it
read.
"'Is that the piece he's to read,' I asked, 'when Guy Walsingham
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