| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Warlord of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs:
"He lies!" I cried. "Kulan Tith, listen that you may know the truth.
Listen while I tell you why John Carter has followed Matai Shang
to the heart of thy palace. Listen to me as well as to them,
and then judge if my acts be not more in accord with true
Barsoomian chivalry and honor than those of these revengeful
devotees of the spurious creeds from whose cruel bonds I have
freed your planet."
"Silence!" roared the jeddak, leaping to his feet and laying his hand
upon the hilt of his sword. "Silence, blasphemer! Kulan Tith need not
 The Warlord of Mars |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Love and Friendship by Jane Austen: When I had reached my eighteenth Year I was recalled by my
Parents to my paternal roof in Wales. Our mansion was situated
in one of the most romantic parts of the Vale of Uske. Tho' my
Charms are now considerably softened and somewhat impaired by the
Misfortunes I have undergone, I was once beautiful. But lovely
as I was the Graces of my Person were the least of my
Perfections. Of every accomplishment accustomary to my sex, I was
Mistress. When in the Convent, my progress had always exceeded my
instructions, my Acquirements had been wonderfull for my age, and
I had shortly surpassed my Masters.
In my Mind, every Virtue that could adorn it was centered; it was
 Love and Friendship |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Personal Record by Joseph Conrad: really a war for an idea. The second skirmished and scouted all
over the country; and it was that one who pushed a reconnaissance
right to my very table--I mean the one who wore stand-up collars.
She was really calling upon my wife in the soft spirit of
afternoon friendliness, but with her usual martial determination.
She marched into my room swinging her stick . . . but no--I
mustn't exaggerate. It is not my specialty. I am not a
humoristic writer. In all soberness, then, all I am certain of
is that she had a stick to swing.
No ditch or wall encompassed my abode. The window was open; the
door, too, stood open to that best friend of my work, the warm,
 A Personal Record |