| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from At the Mountains of Madness by H. P. Lovecraft: In another moment, however, Danforth’s sharp vision had descried
a place where the floor debris had been disturbed; and we turned
on both torches full strength. Though what we saw in that light
was actually simple and trifling, I am none the less reluctant
to tell of it because of what it implied. It was a rough leveling
of the debris, upon which several small objects lay carelessly
scattered, and at one corner of which a considerable amount of
gasoline must have been spilled lately enough to leave a strong
odor even at this extreme superplateau altitude. In other words,
it could not be other than a sort of camp - a camp made by questing
beings who, like us, had been turned back by the unexpectedly
 At the Mountains of Madness |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from My Bondage and My Freedom by Frederick Douglass: I see the bleeding footsteps; I hear the doleful wail of fettered
humanity, on the way to the slave markets, where the victims are
to be sold like horses, sheep, and swine, knocked off to the
highest bidder. There I see the tenderest ties ruthlessly
broken, to gratify the lust, caprice, and rapacity of the buyers
and sellers of men. My soul sickens at the sight.
_Is this the land your fathers loved?
The freedom which they toiled to win?
Is this the earth whereon they moved?
Are these the graves they slumber in?_
But a still more inhuman, disgraceful, and scandalous state of
 My Bondage and My Freedom |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from In the South Seas by Robert Louis Stevenson: laughing,' said A., in singular echo of one of the king's
expressions. And again: 'I had been reading the Musketeer books,
and he reminded me of Aramis.' Such is the portrait of
Tembinatake, drawn by an expert romancer.
We had heard many tales of 'my patha'; never a word of my uncle
till two days before we left. As the time approached for our
departure Tembinok' became greatly changed; a softer, a more
melancholy, and, in particular, a more confidential man appeared in
his stead. To my wife he contrived laboriously to explain that
though he knew he must lose his father in the course of nature, he
had not minded nor realised it till the moment came; and that now
|