| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Montezuma's Daughter by H. Rider Haggard: seen the desiccated body of a young woman, which was found immured
in the walls of a religious building. With it is the body of an
infant. Although the exact cause of her execution remains a matter
of conjecture, there can be no doubt as to the manner of her death,
for in addition to other evidences, the marks of the rope with
which her limbs were bound in life are still distinctly visible.
Such in those days were the mercies of religion!
Then he bade all present gather themselves at the far end of the
vault that our talk might not be overheard, and they did so without
wonder, thinking doubtless that I was a monk sent to confess the
doomed woman.
Montezuma's Daughter |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Running a Thousand Miles for Freedom by William and Ellen Craft: wickedness, drunkenness, and vice, had destroyed
in Hoskens every noble impulse, left him.
Antoinette, poor girl, also seeing that there was
no help for her, became frantic. I can never forget
her cries of despair, when Hoskens gave the order
for her to be taken to his house, and locked in an
upper room. On Hoskens entering the apart-
ment, in a state of intoxication, a fearful struggle
ensued. The brave Antoinette broke loose from
him, pitched herself head foremost through the
window, and fell upon the pavement below.
Running a Thousand Miles for Freedom |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Letters of Robert Louis Stevenson by Robert Louis Stevenson: out, and have the fresh air about me, it is as though I were born
again, and the sick fancies flee away from my mind like swans in
spring.
I want to come back on what I have said about eighteenth century
and middle-age houses: I do not know if I have yet explained to
you the sort of loyalty, of urbanity, that there is about the one
to my mind; the spirit of a country orderly and prosperous, a
flavour of the presence of magistrates and well-to-do merchants in
bag-wigs, the clink of glasses at night in fire-lit parlours,
something certain and civic and domestic, is all about these quiet,
staid, shapely houses, with no character but their exceeding
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