| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table by Oliver Wendell Holmes: Ranged like rocks above the sand;
Rolling beneath them, soft and green,
Breaks the tide of bright sixteen, -
One wave, two waves, three waves, four,
Sliding up the sparkling floor;
Then it ebbs to flow no more,
Wandering off from shore to shore
With its freight of golden ore!
- Pleasant place for boys to play; -
Better keep your girls away;
Hearts get rolled as pebbles do
The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from An International Episode by Henry James: "I don't think I can wait till July," the young girl rejoined.
"By the first of May I shall be very impatient." They had gone further,
and Mrs. Westgate and her companion were near them. "Kitty," said
Miss Alden, "I have given out that we are going to London next May.
So please to conduct yourself accordingly."
Percy Beaumont wore a somewhat animated--even a slightly irritated--air.
He was by no means so handsome a man as his cousin, although in
his cousin's absence he might have passed for a striking specimen
of the tall, muscular, fair-bearded, clear-eyed Englishman.
Just now Beaumont's clear eyes, which were small and of a pale
gray color, had a rather troubled light, and, after glancing at
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Scaramouche by Rafael Sabatini: the seventeenth century, his face adorned with a pair of mostachios,
jangled a guitar discordantly. Harlequin, ragged and patched in
every colour of the rainbow, with his leather girdle and sword of
lath, the upper half of his face smeared in soot, clashed a pair of
cymbals intermittently. Pasquariel, as an apothecary in skull-cap
and white apron, excited the hilarity of the onlookers by his
enormous tin clyster, which emitted when pumped a dolorous squeak.
Within the chaise itself, but showing themselves freely at the
windows, and exchanging quips with the townsfolk, sat the three
ladies of the company. Climene, the amoureuse, beautifully gowned
in flowered satin, her own clustering ringlets concealed under a
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