| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Another Study of Woman by Honore de Balzac: "This, of course, applies only to passion; in any other sense it would
be socially wrong. Nothing more clearly proves the necessity for
indissoluble marriage than the instability of passion. The two sexes
must be chained up, like wild beasts as they are, by inevitable law,
deaf and mute. Eliminate revenge, and infidelity in love is nothing.
Those who believe that for them there is but one woman in the world
must be in favor of vengeance, and then there is but one form of it--
that of Othello.
"Mine was different."
The words produced in each of us the imperceptible movement which
newspaper writers represent in Parliamentary reports by the words:
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Shadow out of Time by H. P. Lovecraft: height could not be under ten feet - from a level not below that
of their surfaces.
And then the morbid temptation to look down
at myself became greater and greater, till one night I could not
resist it. At first my downward glance revealed nothing whatever.
A moment later I perceived that this was because my head lay at
the end of a flexible neck of enormous length. Retracting this
neck and gazing down very sharply, I saw the scaly, rugose, iridescent
bulk of a vast cone ten feet tall and ten feet wide at the base.
That was when I waked half of Arkham with my screaming as I plunged
madly up from the abyss of sleep.
 Shadow out of Time |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Dark Lady of the Sonnets by George Bernard Shaw: fixed its perfect melody? Season your admiration for a while": God!
the history of man's heart is in that one word admiration.
Admiration! _[Taking up his tablets]_ What was it? "Suspend your
admiration for a space--"
THE LADY. A very vile jingle of esses. I said "Season your--"
THE MAN. _[hastily]_ Season: ay, season, season, season. Plague on
my memory, my wretched memory! I must een write it down. _[He begins
to write, but stops, his memory failing him]._ Yet tell me which was
the vile jingle? You said very justly: mine own ear caught it even
as my false tongue said it.
THE LADY. You said "for a space." I said "for a while."
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