|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Smalcald Articles by Dr. Martin Luther:
whatsoever is extolled as Spirit without the Word and
Sacraments. For God wished to appear even to Moses through the
burning bush and spoken Word; and no prophet neither Elijah
nor Elisha, received the Spirit without the Ten Commandments
[or spoken Word]. Neither was John the Baptist conceived
without the preceding word of Gabriel, nor did he leap in his
mother's womb without the voice of Mary. And Peter says,
2. Ep. 1, 21: The prophecy came not by the will of man; but
holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost.
Without the outward Word, however, they were not holy, much
less would the Holy Ghost have moved them to speak when they
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Lost Continent by Edgar Rice Burroughs:
You all know how Porfirio Johnson returned to Pan-America
with John Alvarez in chains; how Alvarez's trial raised a
popular demonstration that the government could not ignore.
His eloquent appeal--not for himself, but for me--is
historic, as are its results. You know how a fleet was sent
across the Atlantic to search for me, how the restrictions
against crossing thirty to one hundred seventy-five were
removed forever, and how the officers were brought to
Peking, arriving upon the very day that Victory and I were
married at the imperial court.
My return to Pan-America was very different from anything I
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Poems by Bronte Sisters:
Cold in the earth--and the deep snow piled above thee,
Far, far, removed, cold in the dreary grave!
Have I forgot, my only Love, to love thee,
Severed at last by Time's all-severing wave?
Now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover
Over the mountains, on that northern shore,
Resting their wings where heath and fern-leaves cover
Thy noble heart for ever, ever more?
Cold in the earth--and fifteen wild Decembers,
From those brown hills, have melted into spring:
Faithful, indeed, is the spirit that remembers