| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Virginibus Puerisque by Robert Louis Stevenson: Because I have reached Paris, I am not ashamed of having
passed through Newhaven and Dieppe. They were very good
places to pass through, and I am none the less at my
destination. All my old opinions were only stages on the way
to the one I now hold, as itself is only a stage on the way to
something else. I am no more abashed at having been a red-hot
Socialist with a panacea of my own than at having been a
sucking infant. Doubtless the world is quite right in a
million ways; but you have to be kicked about a little to
convince you of the fact. And in the meanwhile you must do
something, be something, believe something. It is not
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Fisherman's Luck by Henry van Dyke: discover it with your own eyes. But there is an experience even
better than that. When you have stupidly forgotten (or despondently
forgone) to look about you for the unclaimed treasures and unearned
blessings which are scattered along the by-ways of life, then,
sometimes by a special mercy, a small sample of them is quietly laid
before you so that you cannot help seeing it, and it brings you back
to a sense of the joyful possibilities of living.
How full of enjoyment is the search after wild things,--wild birds,
wild flowers, wild honey, wild berries! There was a country club on
Storm King Mountain, above the Hudson River, where they used to
celebrate a festival of flowers every spring. Men and women who had
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Pivot of Civilization by Margaret Sanger: the five small children swarming about her, and answered laconically,
``Too much children!'' She volunteered the information that there had
been two more who had died. When asked why they had died, the poor
mother shrugged her shoulders listlessly, and replied, ``Don't know.''
In addition to bearing and rearing these children, her work would sap
the vitality of any ordinary person. ``She got home soon after four in
the morning, cooked breakfast for the family and ate hastily herself.
At 4.30 she was in bed, staying there until eight. But part of that
time was disturbed for the children were noisy and the apartment was a
tiny, dingy place in a basement. At eight she started the three
oldest boys to school, and cleaned up the debris of breakfast and of
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