|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Lady Baltimore by Owen Wister:
which an old lady rose should try her thorns; and I was inclined to
suspect that his intimate aunt had been giving him a wigging.
Anyhow, I stood ready to keep it up, this interchange of lofty
civilities. I, too, could wear the courtly red-heels of
eighteenth-century procedure, and for just as long as his Southern
up-bringing inclined him to wear them; I hadn't known Aunt Carola for
nothing! But we, as I have said, were not destined to dance any minuet.
We had been moving, very gradually, and without any attention to our
surroundings, to and fro in the beautiful sweet churchyard. Flowers were
everywhere, growing, budding, blooming; color and perfume were parts of
the very air, and beneath these pretty and ancient tombs, graven with old
dates and honorable names, slept the men and women who had given Kings
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Wyoming by William MacLeod Raine:
dusty road, while its occupant gazed with eager, unsated eyes on
the great panorama that stretched before her. The earth rolled in
waves like a mighty sea to the distant horizon line. From a
wonderful blue sky poured down upon the land a bath of sunbeat.
The air was like wine, pure and strong, and above the desert swam
the rare, untempered light of Wyoming. Surely here was a peace
primeval, a silence unbroken since the birth of creation.
It was all new to her, and wonderfully exhilarating. The infinite
roll of plain, the distant shining mountains, the multitudinous
voices of the desert drowned in a sunlit sea of space--they were
all details of the situation that ministered to a large serenity.
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Bucky O'Connor by William MacLeod Raine:
business. Now, it won't take me long if I get off right foot
first. You read my letter, you said?"
"Which letter?" She was examining attentively the fringe of the
sash she wore.
"Why, honey, that love-letter I wrote you. If there was more than
one it must have been wrote in my sleep, for I ce'tainly
He could just hear her confused answer: "Oh, yes, I read that. I
told you that before."
"What did you think? Tell me again."
"I thought you misspelled feelings."