| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Garden Party by Katherine Mansfield: Cyril to tea was one of their rare treats.
"Now, Cyril, you mustn't be frightened of our cakes. Your Auntie Con and I
bought them at Buszard's this morning. We know what a man's appetite is.
So don't be ashamed of making a good tea."
Josephine cut recklessly into the rich dark cake that stood for her winter
gloves or the soling and heeling of Constantia's only respectable shoes.
But Cyril was most unmanlike in appetite.
"I say, Aunt Josephine, I simply can't. I've only just had lunch, you
know."
"Oh, Cyril, that can't be true! It's after four," cried Josephine.
Constantia sat with her knife poised over the chocolate-roll.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Gettysburg Address by Abraham Lincoln: we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead,
who struggled here have consecrated it, far above our poor power
to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember,
what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.
It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished
work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced.
It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining
before us. . .that from these honored dead we take increased devotion
to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion. . .
that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain. . .
that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom. . .
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Another Study of Woman by Honore de Balzac: love me?'--'Oh! yes.'--'Well, then, what will become of you?' "
At this point the women all looked at each other.
"Though I can still suffer when I recall her perfidy, I still laugh at
her expression of entire conviction and sweet satisfaction that I must
die, or at any rate sink into perpetual melancholy," de Marsay went
on. "Oh! do not laugh yet!" he said to his listeners; "there is better
to come. I looked at her very tenderly after a pause, and said to her,
'Yes, that is what I have been wondering.'--'Well, what will you do?'
--'I asked myself that the day after my cold.'--'And----?' she asked
with eager anxiety.--'And I have made advances to the little lady to
whom I was supposed to be attached.'
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