The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald: really lay just over the brow of a certain hill, where the brown
road dwindled out of sight in a golden dot.
He read voluminously all spring, the beginning of his eighteenth
year: "The Gentleman from Indiana," "The New Arabian Nights,"
"The Morals of Marcus Ordeyne," "The Man Who Was Thursday," which
he liked without understanding; "Stover at Yale," that became
somewhat of a text-book; "Dombey and Son," because he thought he
really should read better stuff; Robert Chambers, David Graham
Phillips, and E. Phillips Oppenheim complete, and a scattering of
Tennyson and Kipling. Of all his class work only "L'Allegro" and
some quality of rigid clarity in solid geometry stirred his
This Side of Paradise |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Life of the Spider by J. Henri Fabre: slack net-work, through which the outcomers wriggle: weak little
orange-yellow beasties, with a triangular black patch upon their
sterns. One morning is long enough for the whole family to make
its appearance.
By degrees, the emancipated youngsters climb the nearest twigs,
clamber to the top, and spread a few threads. Soon, they gather in
a compact, ball-shaped cluster, the size of a walnut. They remain
motionless. With their heads plunged into the heap and their
sterns projecting, they doze gently, mellowing under the kisses of
the sun. Rich in the possession of a thread in their belly as
their sole inheritance, they prepare to disperse over the wide
The Life of the Spider |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Royalty Restored/London Under Charles II by J. Fitzgerald Molloy: Highness justly belongs the honour of dying for the people," it
stated, "and it cannot but be an unspeakable consolation to you,
in the last moments of your life, to consider with how much
benefit to the world you are likely to leave it. It is then
only, my lord, the titles you now usurp will be truly yours; you
will then be, indeed, the deliverer of your country, and free it
from a bondage little inferior to that from which Moses delivered
his, you will then be that true reformer which you would now be
thought; religion shall then be restored, liberty asserted, and
Parliaments have those privileges they have sought for. All this
we hope from your Highness's happy expiration. To hasten this
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