| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Ruling Passion by Henry van Dyke: The Second Law was equally unpopular: No stealing from the
Honourable H. B. Company. If a man bought bacon or corned-beef or
any other delicacy, and stored it an insecure place, or if he left
fish on the beach over night, his dogs might act according to their
inclination. Though Pichou did not understand how honest dogs could
steal from their own master, he was willing to admit that this was
their affair. His affair was that nobody should steal anything from
the Post. It cost him many night watches, and some large battles to
carry it out, but he did it. In the course of time it came to pass
that the other dogs kept away from the Post altogether, to avoid
temptations; and his own team spent most of their free time
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The White Moll by Frank L. Packard: recover to-night. There was no...
She was listening in a startled way now at the instrument. Central
had given her "information"; and "information" was informing her
that the number she had asked for had been disconnected.
She hung up the receiver, and went out again to the street in a
dazed and bewildered way. And then suddenly a smile of bitter
self-derision crossed her lips. She had been a fool! There was no
softer word - a fool! Why had she not stopped to think? She
understood now! On the night the Adventurer had confided that
telephone number to her as Gypsy Nan, he had had every reason to
believe that Gypsy Nan would, as she had already apparently done,
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Complete Poems of Longfellow by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: The student first the silence broke,
As one who long has lain in wait
With purpose to retaliate,
And thus he dealt the avenging stroke.
"In such a company as this,
A tale so tragic seems amiss,
That by its terrible control
O'ermasters and drags down the soul
Into a fathomless abyss.
The Italian Tales that you disdain,
Some merry Night of Straparole,
|
