|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde:
"Did you go to the club?"
"Yes," he answered. Then he bit his lip. "No, I don't mean that.
I didn't go to the club. I walked about. I forget what I did.
. . . How inquisitive you are, Harry! You always want to know what
one has been doing. I always want to forget what I have been doing.
I came in at half-past two, if you wish to know the exact time.
I had left my latch-key at home, and my servant had to let me in.
If you want any corroborative evidence on the subject, you can ask
Lord Henry shrugged his shoulders. "My dear fellow, as if I cared!
Let us go up to the drawing-room. No sherry, thank you, Mr. Chapman.
The Picture of Dorian Gray
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Three Taverns by Edwin Arlington Robinson:
For your endurance you shall have at last
In peace, without the twinge of any fear
For my condition; for I shall be done
With plans and actions that have heretofore
Made your days long and your nights ominous
With darkness and the many distances
That were between us. When the silence comes,
I shall in faith be nearer to you then
Than I am now in fact. What you see now
Is only the outside of an old man,
Older than years have made him. Let him die,
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Night and Day by Virginia Woolf:
for such a long time, that in my foolish, nervous state I dreaded
something, I don't quite know what. And then she told me how, after
all, she had made up her mind. She had written. She expected him
to-morrow. At first I wasn't glad at all. I didn't want her to marry
any one; but when she said, 'It will make no difference. I shall
always care for you and father most,' then I saw how selfish I was,
and I told her she must give him everything, everything, everything! I
told her I should be thankful to come second. But why, when
everything's turned out just as one always hoped it would turn out,
why then can one do nothing but cry, nothing but feel a desolate old
woman whose life's been a failure, and now is nearly over, and age is