| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Falk by Joseph Conrad: cent to put that insult upon you, and Captain Her-
mann gets in a day ahead of your ship. Time's
money! Eh? You are very friendly with Captain
Hermann I believe, but a man is bound to be pleased
at any little advantage he may get. Captain Her-
mann is a good business man, and there's no such
thing as a friend in business. Is there?" He
leaned forward and began to cast stealthy glances
as usual. "But Falk is, and always was, a misera-
ble fellow. I would despise him."
I muttered, grumpily, that I had no particular
Falk |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from La Grande Breteche by Honore de Balzac: existence. I often wept there, I never laughed.
"More than once I felt involuntary terrors as I heard overhead the
dull hum of the wings of some hurrying wood-pigeon. The earth is dank;
you must be on the watch for lizards, vipers, and frogs, wandering
about with the wild freedom of nature; above all, you must have no
fear of cold, for in a few moments you feel an icy cloak settle on
your shoulders, like the Commendatore's hand on Don Giovanni's neck.
"One evening I felt a shudder; the wind had turned an old rusty
weathercock, and the creaking sounded like a cry from the house, at
the very moment when I was finishing a gloomy drama to account for
this monumental embodiment of woe. I returned to my inn, lost in
La Grande Breteche |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence: enormous, and of shapes not before known to man. The head-stock and
pit-bank of the mine itself were insignificant among the huge new
installations. And in front of this, the game of dominoes stood forever
in a sort of surprise, waiting to be played.
This was Stacks Gate, new on the face of the earth, since the war. But
as a matter of fact, though even Connie did not know it, downhill half
a mile below the 'hotel' was old Stacks Gate, with a little old
colliery and blackish old brick dwellings, and a chapel or two and a
shop or two and a little pub or two.
But that didn't count any more. The vast plumes of smoke and vapour
rose from the new works up above, and this was now Stacks Gate: no
Lady Chatterley's Lover |
