| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Adventure by Jack London: the hole it would have made. As it is, you're drilled clean--a
nice little perforation. All you need is antiseptic washing and
dressing, and you'll be around in a month. Now take it easy, and
I'll send a stretcher for you."
CHAPTER XXVIII--CAPITULATION
When Sheldon emerged from among the trees he found Joan waiting at
the compound gate, and he could not fail to see that she was
visibly gladdened at the sight of him.
"I can't tell you how glad I am to see you," was her greeting.
"What's become of Tudor? That last flutter of the automatic wasn't
nice to listen to. Was it you or Tudor?"
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Tour Through Eastern Counties of England by Daniel Defoe: when he had won it. On the other side there was Sir R Fagg, of
Sussex, of whom fame says he has the most in him and the least to
show for it (relating to jockeyship) of any man there, yet he often
carried the prize. His horses, they said, were all cheats, how
honest soever their master was, for he scarce ever produced a horse
but he looked like what he was not, and was what nobody could
expect him to be. If he was as light as the wind, and could fly
like a meteor, he was sure to look as clumsy, and as dirty, and as
much like a cart-horse as all the cunning of his master and the
grooms could make him, and just in this manner he beat some of the
greatest gamesters in the field.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Shakespeare's Sonnets by William Shakespeare: In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd,
Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.
Ah! yet doth beauty like a dial-hand,
Steal from his figure, and no pace perceiv'd;
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceiv'd:
For fear of which, hear this thou age unbred:
Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead.
CV
Let not my love be call'd idolatry,
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