| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Case of The Lamp That Went Out by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner: walk around in the garden for a little
while, and pick a rose or two, I will be greatly pleased."
"Why, of course you may," said Franz. "Take any of the roses you
see there that please you. They're nearly over for the season now
and it's better they should be picked rather than left to fade on
the bush. We don't use so many flowers in the house now when the
family are not there."
"All right, then, it's a bargain," laughed Muller, signalling to
the landlord. "Are you, going already?" asked the old servant.
"Yes, I must be going if I am to spend any time with the little dog."
"I suppose I ought to be at home myself," said Franz. "Something's
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Dreams by Olive Schreiner: have sat here in this darkness to wait, and they have come to us and we to
them; and they have never left us, never. All else is a delusion, but we
are real, we are real, we are real. Truth is a shadow; the valleys of
superstition are a farce: the earth is of ashes, the trees all rotten; but
we--feel us--we live! You cannot doubt us. Feel us how warm we are! Oh,
come to us! Come with us!"
Nearer and nearer round his head they hovered, and the cold drops melted on
his forehead. The bright light shot into his eyes, dazzling him, and the
frozen blood began to run. And he said:
"Yes, why should I die here in this awful darkness? They are warm, they
melt my frozen blood!" and he stretched out his hands to take them.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Dreams by Olive Schreiner: now it is as though a great fire burnt within my breast. It was but a
sheen, a shimmer, a reflection in the water; but now I desire nothing more
on earth than to hold her."
His friend laughed.
"It was but a beam playing on the water, or the shadow of your own head.
Tomorrow you will forget her," he said.
But tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow the hunter walked alone. He
sought in the forest and in the woods, by the lakes and among the rushes,
but he could not find her. He shot no more wild fowl; what were they to
him?
"What ails him?" said his comrades.
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