|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Beauty and The Beast by Bayard Taylor:
"I can laugh over those days now, Ned; but they were really happy
while they lasted. We were the salt of the earth; we were lifted
above those grovelling instincts which we saw manifested in the
lives of others. Each contributed his share of gas to inflate the
painted balloon to which we all clung, in the expectation that it
would presently soar with us to the stars. But it only went up
over the out-houses, dodged backwards and forwards two or three
times, and finally flopped down with us into a swamp."
"And that balloon was the A. C.?" suggested Mr. Johnson.
"As President of this Chapter, I prohibit questions," said Eunice.
"And, Enos, don't send up your balloon until the proper time.
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Gods of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs:
As I rose to my feet the first thing I saw was the malignant
countenance of Issus glaring at me through the heavy bars
of a grated door at one side of the chamber.
"Rash mortal!" she shrilled. "You shall pay the awful
penalty for your blasphemy in this secret cell. Here you shall
lie alone and in darkness with the carcass of your accomplice
festering in its rottenness by your side, until crazed by
loneliness and hunger you feed upon the crawling maggots that
were once a man."
That was all. In another instant she was gone, and the dim
light which had filled the cell faded into Cimmerian blackness.
The Gods of Mars
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Garden Party by Katherine Mansfield:
drivers. But the gay glance that went with the gesture, the kindly twinkle
that seemed to say, "I'm a match and more for any of you"--that old Mr.
Neave could not manage at all. He stumped along, lifting his knees high as
if he were walking through air that had somehow grown heavy and solid like
water. And the homeward-looking crowd hurried by, the trams clanked, the
light carts clattered, the big swinging cabs bowled along with that
reckless, defiant indifference that one knows only in dreams...
It had been a day like other days at the office. Nothing special had
happened. Harold hadn't come back from lunch until close on four. Where
had he been? What had he been up to? He wasn't going to let his father
know. Old Mr. Neave had happened to be in the vestibule, saying good-bye