| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from At the Mountains of Madness by H. P. Lovecraft: Old Ones, written fifty million years ago.
Finally scrambling
out at the top, we found ourselves on a great mound of tumbled
blocks, with the curved walls of higher stonework rising westward,
and the brooding peaks of the great mountains showing beyond the
more crumbled structures toward the east. The low antarctic sun
of midnight peered redly from the southern horizon through rifts
in the jagged ruins, and the terrible age and deadness of the
nightmare city seemed all the starker by contrast with such relatively
known and accustomed things as the features of the polar landscape.
The sky above was a churning and opalescent mass of tenuous ice-vapors,
At the Mountains of Madness |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Duchesse de Langeais by Honore de Balzac: her life. How explain a creature so complex? Capable of
heroism, yet sinking unconsciously from heroic heights to utter a
spiteful word; young and sweet-natured, not so much old at heart
as aged by the maxims of those about her; versed in a selfish
philosophy in which she was all unpractised, she had all the
vices of a courtier, all the nobleness of developing womanhood.
She trusted nothing and no one, yet there were times when she
quitted her sceptical attitude for a submissive credulity.
How should any portrait be anything but incomplete of her, in
whom the play of swiftly-changing colour made discord only to
produce a poetic confusion? For in her there shone a divine
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Blix by Frank Norris: a pair of shoes.
But Blix was as sweet as a rose that morning, all in tailor-made
black but for the inevitable bands of white satin wrapped high and
tight about her neck. The St. Bernard dog-collar did duty as a
belt. She had disdained a veil, and her yellow hair was already
blowing about her smooth pink cheeks. She walked at his side, her
step as firm and solid as his own, her round, strong arms
swinging, her little brown eyes shining with good spirits and
vigor, and the pure, clean animal joy of being alive on that fine
cool Western morning. She talked almost incessantly. She was
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