| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Tom Sawyer Abroad by Mark Twain: thing but pure sand. Tom and me clumb down the
ladder and took a run to stretch our legs, and it felt
amazing good -- that is, the stretching did, but the
sand scorched our feet like hot embers. Next, we see
somebody coming, and started to meet him; but we
heard Jim shout, and looked around and he was fairly
dancing, and making signs, and yelling. We couldn't
make out what he said, but we was scared anyway, and
begun to heel it back to the balloon. When we got
close enough, we understood the words, and they
made me sick:
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Cratylus by Plato: like to hear what Cratylus has more to say.
HERMOGENES: But, Socrates, as I was telling you before, Cratylus mystifies
me; he says that there is a fitness of names, but he never explains what is
this fitness, so that I cannot tell whether his obscurity is intended or
not. Tell me now, Cratylus, here in the presence of Socrates, do you agree
in what Socrates has been saying about names, or have you something better
of your own? and if you have, tell me what your view is, and then you will
either learn of Socrates, or Socrates and I will learn of you.
CRATYLUS: Well, but surely, Hermogenes, you do not suppose that you can
learn, or I explain, any subject of importance all in a moment; at any
rate, not such a subject as language, which is, perhaps, the very greatest
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Little Rivers by Henry van Dyke: madman. He played on the surface like a whirlwind, and sulked at
the bottom like a stone. He meditated, with ominous delay, in the
middle of the deepest pool, and then, darting across the river,
flung himself clean out of water and landed far up on the green
turf of the opposite shore. My heart melted like a snowflake in
the sea, and I thought that I had lost him forever. But he rolled
quietly back into the water with the hook still set in his nose. A
few minutes afterwards I brought him within reach of the gaff, and
my first salmon was glittering on the grass beside me.
Then I remembered that William Black had described this very fish
in A Princess of Thule. I pulled the book from my pocket, and,
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