| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Faraday as a Discoverer by John Tyndall: at one period or another of their lives, seems to be the fate of
most great investigators. They do not know the limits of their
constitutional strength until they have transgressed them. It is,
perhaps, right that they should transgress them, in order to
ascertain where they lie. Faraday, however, though he went far
towards it, did not push his transgression beyond his power of
restitution. In 1841 Mrs. Faraday and he went to Switzerland, under
the affectionate charge of her brother, Mr. George Barnard, the artist.
This time of suffering throws fresh light upon his character.
I have said that sweetness and gentleness were not its only
constituents; that he was also fiery and strong. At the time now
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The People That Time Forgot by Edgar Rice Burroughs: until we were loaded down, and all the while Al-tan glared
balefully upon us, seemingly jealous of the attentions heaped
upon us because we had served Chal-az.
At last we reached a hut that they set apart for us, and there
we cooked our meat and some vegetables the women brought us,
and had milk from cows--the first I had had in Caspak--and
cheese from the milk of wild goats, with honey and thin bread
made from wheat flour of their own grinding, and grapes and the
fermented juice of grapes. It was quite the most wonderful
meal I had eaten since I quit the Toreador and Bowen J.
Tyler's colored chef, who could make pork-chops taste like
The People That Time Forgot |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Letters of Robert Louis Stevenson by Robert Louis Stevenson: less malicious; the Devil in red-hot hell rubs his hands with glee
as he reckons up the number that go forth spreading pain and
anxiety with each delivery of the post.
I have been walking to-day by a colonnade of beeches along the
brawling Allan. My character for sanity is quite gone, seeing that
I cheered my lonely way with the following, in a triumphant chaunt:
'Thank God for the grass, and the fir-trees, and the crows, and the
sheep, and the sunshine, and the shadows of the fir-trees.' I hold
that he is a poor mean devil who can walk alone, in such a place
and in such weather, and doesn't set up his lungs and cry back to
the birds and the river. Follow, follow, follow me. Come hither,
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