| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Red Seal by Natalie Sumner Lincoln: of joy.
"It is not my handkerchief," she stated clearly.
Penfield replaced the handkerchief on the table with the same care
he had picked it up, and turned again to her.
"Thank you, Miss McIntyre; I won't detain you longer. Logan," to
the morgue master, "ask Dr. Stone to step here."
Almost immediately Stone reentered the room and hurried to the
platform.
"Would two or more capsules of amyl nitrite constitute a lethal
dose?" asked Penfield.
"They would be very apt to finish a feeble heart," replied Stone.
The Red Seal |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Wrecker by Stevenson & Osbourne: fellow-pupils--friends of mine and both considerable sculptors
in Paris at this hour. "Corporal John" (as we used to call him)
breaking for once those habits of study and reserve which have
since carried him so high in the opinion of the world, had left
his easel of a morning to countenance a fellow-countryman in
some suspense. My dear old Romney was there by particular
request; for who that knew him would think a pleasure quite
complete unless he shared it, or not support a mortification
more easily if he were present to console? The party was
completed by John Myner, the Englishman; by the brothers
Stennis,--Stennis-aine and Stennis-frere, as they used to figure
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Dreams by Olive Schreiner: The other artists came and said, "Where does he get his colour from?" They
asked him; and he smiled and said, "I cannot tell you"; and worked on with
his head bent low.
And one went to the far East and bought costly pigments, and made a rare
colour and painted, but after a time the picture faded. Another read in
the old books, and made a colour rich and rare, but when he had put it on
the picture it was dead.
But the artist painted on. Always the work got redder and redder, and the
artist grew whiter and whiter. At last one day they found him dead before
his picture, and they took him up to bury him. The other men looked about
in all the pots and crucibles, but they found nothing they had not.
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