| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Extracts From Adam's Diary by Mark Twain: is not a reason; it is mere waywardness and imbecility. I get no
chance to name anything myself. The new creature names everything
that comes along, before I can get in a protest. And always that
same pretext is offered--it looks like the thing. There is the
dodo, for instance. Says the moment one looks at it one sees at
a glance that it "looks like a dodo." It will have to keep that
name, no doubt. It wearies me to fret about it, and it does no
good, anyway. Dodo! It looks no more like a dodo than I do.
Wednesday
Built me a shelter against the rain, but could not have it to
myself in peace. The new creature intruded. When I tried to put
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Large Catechism by Dr. Martin Luther: the former commandments, as especially the Jews claimed to be, and even
now many great noblemen, gentlemen, and princes. For the other common
masses belong yet farther down, under the Seventh Commandment, as those
who are not much concerned whether they acquire their possessions with
honor and right.
Now, this occurs most frequently in cases that are brought into court,
where it is the purpose to get something from our neighbor and to force
him out of his own. As (to give examples), when people quarrel and
wrangle about a large inheritance, real estate, etc., they avail
themselves of, and resort to, whatever has the appearance of right, so
dressing and adorning everything that the law must favor their side,
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Ruling Passion by Henry van Dyke: and bronzed cheeks, were clear and tranquil as those of a child.
Alden was immensely interested and amused. He was a member of the
Boston branch of the Society for Ancestral Culture, and he
recognized the favourite tenet of his sect,--the doctrine that
"blood will tell." He was also a Harvard man, knowing almost
everything and believing hardly anything. Heredity was one of the
few unquestioned articles of his creed. But the form in which this
familiar confession of faith came to him, on the banks of the Grande
Decharge, from the lips of a somewhat ragged and distinctly
illiterate Canadian guide, was grotesque enough to satisfy the most
modern taste for new sensations. He listened with an air of
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