| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Somebody's Little Girl by Martha Young: One day the strangest thing of all so far happened.
One little girl called another little girl with whom she was
playing, ``Sister.''
Bessie Bell laughed at that.
``Oh, she is not a Sister!'' said Bessie Bell.
``Yes, she is; she is my sister!'' said the little girl.
``No,'' said Bessie Bell, just as great grown people said to her when
she remembered strange things, ``No, there never was in the world a
Sister like that!''
Then the smaller of the little girls who were playing together ran
to the larger one, and caught hold of her hand, and they stood
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Tarzan and the Jewels of Opar by Edgar Rice Burroughs: if he did not desist.
Mugambi took the matter less to heart, for he had not
the slightest doubt but that during the course of the
journey he would find ample opportunity to elude the
vigilance of his guards and make good his escape.
With this idea always uppermost in his mind, he courted
the good opinion of the Abyssinians, asked them many
questions about their emperor and their country, and
evinced a growing desire to reach their destination,
that he might enjoy all the good things which they
assured him the city of Adis Abeba contained. Thus he
 Tarzan and the Jewels of Opar |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Footnote to History by Robert Louis Stevenson: some small part of which (says Knappe) did really belong to "an
American nigger." The disease spread, the flags were multiplied,
the operations of war became an egg-dance among miniature neutral
territories; and though all men took a hand in these proceedings,
all men in turn were struck with their absurdity. Mullan, Leary's
successor, warned Knappe, in an emphatic despatch, not to squander
and discredit the solemnity of that emblem which was all he had to
be a defence to his own consulate. And Knappe himself, in his
despatch of March 21st, 1889, castigates the practice with much
sense. But this was after the tragicomic culmination had been
reached, and the burnt rags of one of these too-frequently
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