|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Running a Thousand Miles for Freedom by William and Ellen Craft:
21st of December, 1848, and arrived at Baltimore,
Saturday evening, the 24th (Christmas Eve).
Baltimore was the last slave port of any note at
which we stopped.
On arriving there we felt more anxious than
ever, because we knew not what that last dark
night would bring forth. It is true we were near
the goal, but our poor hearts were still as if tossed
at sea; and, as there was another great and dangerous
bar to pass, we were afraid our liberties would be
wrecked, and, like the ill-fated Royal Charter, go
Running a Thousand Miles for Freedom
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Wheels of Chance by H. G. Wells:
puckered pallor of the moon.
It is difficult to say how long Mr. Hoopdriver's pensiveness
lasted. It seemed a long time before his thoughts of action
returned. Then he remembered he was a 'watcher'; that to-morrow
he must be busy. It would be in character to make notes, and he
pulled out his little note-book. With that in hand he fell
a-thinking again. Would that chap tell her the 'tecks were after
them? If so, would she be as anxious to get away as HE was? He
must be on the alert. If possible he must speak to her. Just a
significant word, "Your friend--trust me!"--It occurred to him
that to-morrow these fugitives might rise early to escape. At
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Emmuska Orczy:
offered for the capture of these daring and impudent Englishmen.
There was a sum of five thousand francs promised to the man who laid
hands on the mysterious and elusive Scarlet Pimpernel.
Everyone felt that Bibot would be that man, and Bibot allowed
that belief to take firm root in everybody's mind; and so, day after
day, people came to watch him at the West Gate, so as to be present
when he laid hands on any fugitive aristo who perhaps might be
accompanied by that mysterious Englishman.
"Bah!" he said to his trusted corporal, "Citoyen Grospierre
was a fool! Had it been me now, at that North Gate last week. . ."
Citoyen Bibot spat on the ground to express his contempt for
The Scarlet Pimpernel