| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Somebody's Little Girl by Martha Young: The lady looked as if she were going to cry.
But Bessie Bell could see nothing to cry about. The band was still
playing ever so gaily, and all the little children looked so
beautiful and so happy, all playing and running hither and thither
on the sawdust walks, that it was good just to look at them.
But on the instant Bessie Bell remembered how sorrowful it was to
cry when you could not understand things, so she quickly reached out
her little pink hand and laid it on the lady's hand--just because
she knew how sorrowful it felt to feel like crying and not to know.
``You see,'' said Bessie Bell gently, as she softly patted the lady's
hand, ``you see, you do look something like a Sister,--but,'' said
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Louis Lambert by Honore de Balzac: in the heart of a child? The similarity of our tastes and ideas made
us friends and chums; our intimacy was so brotherly that our school-
fellows joined our two names; one was never spoken without the other,
and to call either they always shouted "Poet-and-Pythagoras!" Some
other names had been known coupled in a like manner. Thus for two
years I was the school friend of poor Louis Lambert; and during that
time my life was so identified with his, that I am enabled now to
write his intellectual biography.
It was long before I fully knew the poetry and the wealth of ideas
that lay hidden in my companion's heart and brain. It was not till I
was thirty years of age, till my experience was matured and condensed,
Louis Lambert |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Thuvia, Maid of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs: architecture that it rolled to one side, like a huge wheel,
into an aperture in the wall.
Even such world-old cities as ancient Aaanthor were as
yet undreamed of when the races lived that built such
gates as these.
As he stood speculating upon the identity of this
forgotten city, a voice spoke to them from above.
Both looked up. There, leaning over the edge of
the high wall, was a man.
His hair was auburn, his skin fair--fairer even than
that of John Carter, the Virginian. His forehead was
Thuvia, Maid of Mars |
