|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Happy Prince and Other Tales by Oscar Wilde:
the stars are quite clear and bright, and yet it is raining. The
climate in the north of Europe is really dreadful. The Reed used
to like the rain, but that was merely her selfishness."
Then another drop fell.
"What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?" he
said; "I must look for a good chimney-pot," and he determined to
But before he had opened his wings, a third drop fell, and he
looked up, and saw - Ah! what did he see?
The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears, and tears were
running down his golden cheeks. His face was so beautiful in the
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Lady Baltimore by Owen Wister:
"Kitty will be in a jolly old stew. None of its expensive bones broken
however." And then he hailed me by a name of our youth." What are you
doing down here, you old sourbelly?"
"Watching you sun yourself on the fat cushions of the yellow rich."
"Oh, shucks, old man, they're not so yellow!"
"Charley strikes me as yellower than his own gold."
"Charley's not a bad little sort. Of course, he needs coaching a bit here
and there--just now, for instance, when he didn't see that that girl
wouldn't think of riding in the machine that had just killed her dog. By
Jove, give that girl a year in civilization and she'd do! Who was the
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Golden Threshold by Sarojini Naidu:
enchanting rhythms through this magic month of May, the gold of
fireflies in the perfumed darkness--'aerial gold.' I long to
catch the subtle music of their fairy dances and make a poem with
a rhythm like the quick irregular wild flash of their sudden
movements. Would it not be wonderful? One black night I stood
in a garden with fireflies in my hair like darting restless stars
caught in a mesh of darkness. It gave me a strange sensation, as
if I were not human at all, but an elfin spirit. I wonder why
these little things move me so deeply? It is because I have a
most 'unbalanced intellect,' I suppose." Then, looking out on
Florence, she cries, "God! how beautiful it is, and how glad I am