| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Essays of Travel by Robert Louis Stevenson: This Tuesday morning we were all delighted with the change of
weather, and in the highest possible spirits. We got in a cluster
like bees, sitting between each other's feet under lee of the deck-
houses. Stories and laughter went around. The children climbed
about the shrouds. White faces appeared for the first time, and
began to take on colour from the wind. I was kept hard at work
making cigarettes for one amateur after another, and my less than
moderate skill was heartily admired. Lastly, down sat the fiddler in
our midst and began to discourse his reels, and jigs, and ballads,
with now and then a voice or two to take up the air and throw in the
interest of human speech.
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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: shot too. And as if she and her small, neat home were a sort of
possession, the cow-punchers would boast of her to strangers. They would
have dealt heavily now with the wretch who should trifle with the
water-tank. When camp came within visiting distance, you would see one or
another shaving and parting his hair. They wrote unnecessary letters, and
brought them to mail as excuses for an afternoon call. Honey Wiggin, more
original, would look in the door with his grin, and hold up an ace of
clubs. "I thought maybe yu' could spare a minute for a shootin'-match,"
he would insinuate; and Separ now heard no more objectionable shooting
than this. Texas brought her presents of game--antelope, sage-chickens--
but, shyness intervening, he left them outside the door, and entering,
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Song of Hiawatha by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: To his birch-canoe said, "Onward!"
And it stirred in all its fibres,
And with one great bound of triumph
Leaped across the water-lilies,
Leaped through tangled flags and rushes,
And upon the beach beyond them
Dry-shod landed Hiawatha.
Straight he took his bow of ash-tree,
On the sand one end he rested,
With his knee he pressed the middle,
Stretched the faithful bow-string tighter,
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