| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Oedipus Trilogy by Sophocles: May Providence deal with thee kindlier
Than it has dealt with me! O children mine,
Where are ye? Let me clasp you with these hands,
A brother's hands, a father's; hands that made
Lack-luster sockets of his once bright eyes;
Hands of a man who blindly, recklessly,
Became your sire by her from whom he sprang.
Though I cannot behold you, I must weep
In thinking of the evil days to come,
The slights and wrongs that men will put upon you.
Where'er ye go to feast or festival,
Oedipus Trilogy |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The White Moll by Frank L. Packard: "Sure!" said Danglar. "What do you think!"
"And after that?"
"We bump him off, of course," said Danglar callously. "He knows
all about us, don't he? And I guess we'll square up on what's
coming to him! He's put the crimp into us for the last time!"
Danglar's voice pitched suddenly hoarse in fury. "That's a hell
of a question to ask! What do you think we'd do with a yellow
cur that's double-crossed us like that?"
Plead for the Adventurer's life? It was useless; it was worse than
useless - it would only arouse suspicion toward herself. From the
standpoint of any one of the gang, the Adventurer's life was forfeit.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Ursula by Honore de Balzac: him. One singularity of that pale and sour visage confirmed the
impression of an invisible gobbosity; the nose, crooked and out of
shape like those of many deformed persons, turned from right to left
of the face instead of dividing it down the middle. The mouth,
contracted at the corners, like that of a Sardinian, was always on the
qui vive of irony. His hair, thin and reddish, fell straight, and
showed the skull in many places. His hands, coarse and ill-joined at
the wrists to arms that were far too long, were quick-fingered and
seldom clean. Goupil wore boots only fit for the dust-heap, and raw
silk stockings now of a russet black; his coat and trousers, all
black, and threadbare and greasy with dirt, his pitiful waistcoat with
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