| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Tour Through Eastern Counties of England by Daniel Defoe: diversion, yet it is not a little money they lay out, which
generally falls to the share of the retailers, such as toy-shops,
goldsmiths, braziers, ironmongers, turners, milliners, mercers,
etc., and some loose coins they reserve for the puppet shows,
drolls, rope-dancers, and such like, of which there is no want,
though not considerable like the rest. The last day of the fair is
the horse-fair, where the whole is closed with both horse and foot
races, to divert the meaner sort of people only, for nothing
considerable is offered of that kind. Thus ends the whole fair,
and in less than a week more, there is scarce any sign left that
there has been such a thing there, except by the heaps of dung and
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Footnote to History by Robert Louis Stevenson: these objects. But it is understood that he considered the
existence of a hospital a source of irritation to Germans and a
fault in policy. His own rude act proved in the result far more
impolitic. The hospital had now been open some two months, and de
Coetlogon was still on friendly terms with Knappe, and he and his
wife were engaged to dine with him that day. By the morrow that
was practically ended. For the rape of the awnings had two
results: one, which was the fault of de Coetlogon, not at all of
Hand, who could not have foreseen it; the other which it was his
duty to have seen and prevented. The first was this: the de
Coetlogons found themselves left with their wounded exposed to the
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Seraphita by Honore de Balzac: Under which form is he most God? Which has the ascendant, Matter or
Spirit, when neither can in any way do wrong? Who can comprehend the
Deity engaged in this perpetual business, by which he divides Himself
into two Natures, one of which knows nothing, while the other knows
all? Can you conceive of God amusing Himself in the form of man,
laughing at His own efforts, dying Friday, to be born again Sunday,
and continuing this play from age to age, knowing the end from all
eternity, and telling nothing to Himself, the Creature, of what He the
Creator, does? The God of the preceding hypothesis, a God so nugatory
by the very power of His inertia, seems the more possible of the two
if we are compelled to choose between the impossibilities with which
Seraphita |
