| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Glinda of Oz by L. Frank Baum: in danger of destruction. While you remain with
Princess Ozma I believe she will be able to protect you
from all lesser ills."
"Thank you, Glinda," responded Dorothy gratefully, as
she placed the ring on her finger. "I'm going to wear
my Magic Belt which I took from the Nome King, too, so
I guess I'll be safe from anything the Skeezers and
Flatheads try to do to me."
Ozma had many arrangements to make before she could
leave her throne and her palace in the Emerald City,
even for a trip of a few days, so she bade goodbye to
Glinda of Oz |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Warlord of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs: of the fighting man that has ever been so strong within my breast,
so that my blade flew through the air with a swiftness and deadly
accuracy that threw the two remaining therns into wild despair.
When at last the sharp steel found the heart of one of them
the other turned to flee, and, guessing that his steps would lead
him along the way taken by those I sought, I let him keep ever far
enough ahead to think that he was safely escaping my sword.
Through several inner chambers he raced until he came to a
spiral runway. Up this he dashed, I in close pursuit. At the
The Warlord of Mars |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Faith of Men by Jack London: had stooped to catch her up. Not alone was she solace to his
loneliness, but her primitiveness rejuvenated his jaded mind. It
was as though, after long wandering, he had returned to pillow his
head in the lap of Mother Earth. In short, in Jees Uck he found
the youth of the world--the youth and the strength and the joy.
And to fill the full round of his need, and that they might not see
overmuch of each other, there arrived at Twenty Mile one Sandy
MacPherson, as companionable a man as ever whistled along the trail
or raised a ballad by a camp-fire. A Jesuit priest had run into
his camp, a couple of hundred miles up the Yukon, in the nick of
time to say a last word over the body of Sandy's partner. And on
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