| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Ann Veronica by H. G. Wells: the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair
with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had
been wont to read her secret letters. Here was the place behind
the shed where she had used to hide from Roddy's persecutions,
and here the border of herbaceous perennials under whose stems
was fairyland. The back of the house had been the Alps for
climbing, and the shrubs in front of it a Terai. The knots and
broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access
to the fields behind, were still to be traced. And here against
a wall were the plum-trees. In spite of God and wasps and her
father, she had stolen plums; and once because of discovered
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Lin McLean by Owen Wister: bit my head off, and--and that would sure hurt me now!" Lin brought up
with a comical chuckle. "And she went to work, and he cleared out, and no
more seen or heard of him. That's for five years, and she'd given up
tracing him, when one morning she reads in the paper about how her
long-lost brother is convicted for forgery. That's the way she knows he's
not dead, and she takes her savings off her railroad salary and starts
for him. She was that hasty she thought it was Buffalo, New York, till
she got in the cars and read the paper over again. But she had to go as
far as Cincinnati, either way. She has paid every cent of the money he
stole." We had come to the bridge, and Lin jerked a stone into the quick
little river. "She's awful strict in some ways. Thought Buffalo must be a
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Charmides and Other Poems by Oscar Wilde: And cuckoo flowers fringed the narrow lane,
Through my young leaves a sensuous ecstasy
Crept like new wine, and every mossy vein
Throbbed with the fitful pulse of amorous blood,
And the wild winds of passion shook my slim stem's maidenhood.
The trooping fawns at evening came and laid
Their cool black noses on my lowest boughs,
And on my topmost branch the blackbird made
A little nest of grasses for his spouse,
And now and then a twittering wren would light
On a thin twig which hardly bare the weight of such delight.
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