| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Profits of Religion by Upton Sinclair: Trinity Corporation is the name of the concern, and it is one of
the great landlords of New York. In the early days it bought a
number of farms, and these it has held, as the city has grown up
around them, until in 1908 their value was estimated at anywhere
from forty to a hundred million dollars. The true amount has
never been made public; to quote Russell's words:
The real owners of the property are the communicants of the
church. For 94 years none of the owners has known the extent of
the property, nor the amount of the revenue therefrom, nor what
is done with the money. Every attempt to learn even the simplest
fact about these matters has been baffled. The management is a
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Duchesse de Langeais by Honore de Balzac: the troops. He felt glad to be the only man there. He tramped
noisily up the nave, clanking his spurs till the vaulted roof
rang with the sound; he coughed, he talked aloud to himself to
let the nuns know, and more particularly to let the organist know
that if the troops were gone, one Frenchman was left behind. Was
this singular warning heard and understood? He thought so. It
seemed to him that in the Magnificat the organ made response
which was borne to him on the vibrating air. The nun's spirit
found wings in music and fled towards him, throbbing with the
rhythmical pulse of the sounds. Then, in all its might, the
music burst forth and filled the church with warmth. The Song of
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Research Magnificent by H. G. Wells: "Wasn't it always your principle, Benham, to look facts in the face?
I am not pronouncing an immoral principle. Your manner suggests I
am. I am telling you exactly how I feel. That is how I feel. I
want--Venus. I don't want her to talk to or anything of that
sort. . . . I have been studying that book, yes, that large,
vulgar, red book, all the morning, instead of doing any work.
Would you like to see it? . . . NO! . . .
"This spring, Benham, I tell you, is driving me mad. It is a
peculiarly erotic spring. I cannot sleep, I cannot fix my mind, I
cannot attend to ordinary conversation. These feelings, I
understand, are by no means peculiar to myself. . . . No, don't
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