| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Life on the Mississippi by Mark Twain: She would hold herself on a star all night, if you let her alone.
You couldn't ever feel her rudder. It wasn't any more labor to steer
her than it is to count the Republican vote in a South Carolina election.
One morning, just at daybreak, the last trip she ever made, they took
her rudder aboard to mend it; I didn't know anything about it; I backed
her out from the wood-yard and went a-weaving down the river all serene.
When I had gone about twenty-three miles, and made four horribly crooked
crossings----'
'Without any rudder?'
'Yes--old Capt. Tom appeared on the roof and began to find fault
with me for running such a dark night--'
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from An Unsocial Socialist by George Bernard Shaw: self-complacency that made his profession of humility
exasperating. "If all the skates is off, I will, by Miss Wilson's
order, carry them and the camp-stool back to the college."
Miss Ward handed him her skates and turned away. Gertrude placed
hers on the stool and went with Miss Ward. The rest followed,
leaving him to stare at the heap of skates and consider how he
should carry them. He could think of no better plan than to
interlace the straps and hang them in a chain over his shoulder.
By the time he had done this the young ladies were out of sight,
and his intention of enjoying their society during the return to
the college was defeated. They had entered the building long
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Hidden Masterpiece by Honore de Balzac: manners, the respectful deference shown to him by Porbus, his work
guarded so secretly,--a work of patient toil, a work no doubt of
genius, judging by the head of the Virgin which Poussin had so naively
admired, and which, beautiful beside even the Adam of Mabuse, betrayed
the imperial touch of a great artist,--in short, everything about the
strange old man seemed beyond the limits of human nature. The rich
imagination of the youth fastened upon the one perceptible and clear
clew to the mystery of this supernatural being,--the presence of the
artistic nature, that wild impassioned nature to which such mighty
powers have been confided, which too often abuses those powers, and
drags cold reason and common souls, and even lovers of art, over stony
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