| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin by Benjamin Franklin: his assent, so neither could he make a law for them without theirs.
He assur'd me I was totally mistaken. I did not think so, however,
and his lordship's conversation having a little alarm'd me as to
what might be the sentiments of the court concerning us, I wrote
it down as soon as I return'd to my lodgings. I recollected that
about 20 years before, a clause in a bill brought into Parliament
by the ministry had propos'd to make the king's instructions laws
in the colonies, but the clause was thrown out by the Commons,
for which we adored them as our friends and friends of liberty,
till by their conduct towards us in 1765 it seem'd that they had
refus'd that point of sovereignty to the king only that they might
 The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Love and Friendship by Jane Austen: entered and whilst the rest of the party were devouring green tea
and buttered toast, we feasted ourselves in a more refined and
sentimental Manner by a confidential Conversation. I informed them
of every thing which had befallen me during the course of my life,
and at my request they related to me every incident of theirs.
"We are the sons as you already know, of the two youngest
Daughters which Lord St Clair had by Laurina an italian opera
girl. Our mothers could neither of them exactly ascertain who were
our Father, though it is generally beleived that Philander, is the
son of one Philip Jones a Bricklayer and that my Father was one
Gregory Staves a Staymaker of Edinburgh. This is however of little
 Love and Friendship |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Virginian by Owen Wister: "Be with you at the finish," said Scipio.
And they passed on. They did not seem like real people to him.
Trampas looked at the walls and windows of the houses. Were they
real? Was he here, walking in this street? Something had changed.
He looked everywhere, and feeling it everywhere, wondered what
this could be. Then he knew: it was the sun that had gone
entirely behind the mountains, and he drew out his pistol.
The Virginian, for precaution, did not walk out of the front door
of the hotel. He went through back ways, and paused once. Against
his breast he felt the wedding ring where he had it suspended by
a chain from his neck. His hand went up to it, and he drew it out
 The Virginian |