| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Sentimental Journey by Laurence Sterne: his hand he drew it almost out of the scabbard: - 'twas the shining
face of a friend he had once given up - he look'd attentively along
it, beginning at the hilt, as if to see whether it was the same, -
when, observing a little rust which it had contracted near the
point, he brought it near his eye, and bending his head down over
it, - I think - I saw a tear fall upon the place. I could not be
deceived by what followed.
"I shall find," said he, "some OTHER WAY to get it off."
When the Marquis had said this, he returned his sword into its
scabbard, made a bow to the guardians of it, - and, with his wife
and daughter, and his two sons following him, walk'd out.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Emma by Jane Austen: that was to be placing her in such a state of unmerited punishment.
In time, of course, Mr. Knightley would be forgotten, that is,
supplanted; but this could not be expected to happen very early.
Mr. Knightley himself would be doing nothing to assist the cure;--
not like Mr. Elton. Mr. Knightley, always so kind, so feeling,
so truly considerate for every body, would never deserve to be
less worshipped than now; and it really was too much to hope even
of Harriet, that she could be in love with more than three men
in one year.
CHAPTER XVI
It was a very great relief to Emma to find Harriet as desirous
Emma |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Poems of William Blake by William Blake: She ceasd & smild in tears, then sat down in her silver shrine.
Thel answerd, O thou little virgin of the peaceful valley.
Giving to those that cannot crave, the voiceless, the o'er tired
The breath doth nourish the innocent lamb, he smells the milky garments
He crops thy flowers while thou sittest smiling in his face,
Wiping his mild and meekin mouth from all contagious taints.
Thy wine doth purify the golden honey; thy perfume.
Which thou dost scatter on every little blade of grass that springs
Revives the milked cow, & tames the fire-breathing steed.
But Thel is like a faint cloud kindled at the rising sun:
I vanish from my pearly throne, and who shall find my place.
Poems of William Blake |
