|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Spirit of the Border by Zane Grey:
doomed Indians lifted up their voices in song. Never had they sung so
feelingly, so harmoniously.
When the song ended Zeisberger, who stood upon a platform, opened his Bible
"In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment, but with everlasting
kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord, thy Redeemer."
In a voice low and tremulous the venerable missionary began his sermon.
The shadow of death hovered over these Christian martyrs; it was reflected in
their somber eyes, yet not one was sullen or sad. The children who were too
young to understand, but instinctively feeling the tragedy soon to be enacted
there, cowered close to their mothers.
The Spirit of the Border
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Lily of the Valley by Honore de Balzac:
against other men and so take their places. That was a good system
for the Middle Ages, when princes had to destroy their rivals by
pitting one against the other; but in these days, all things being
done in open day, I am afraid it would do you ill-service. No, you
must meet your competitors face to face, be they loyal and true
men, or traitorous enemies whose weapons are calumny, evil-
speaking, and fraud. But remember this, you have no more powerful
auxiliaries than these men themselves; they are their own enemies;
fight them with honest weapons, and sooner or later they are
condemned. As to the first of them, loyal men and true, your
straightforwardness will obtain their respect, and the differences
The Lily of the Valley
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Profits of Religion by Upton Sinclair:
Paul had declared that "the Lord dwelleth not in temples made
with hands." In the twenty-five years which have passed since
that time the good Bishop has passed to his eternal reward, but
the mighty structure which is a monument to his visitations among
the rich towers over the city from its vantage-point on
Morningside Heights. It is called the Cathedral of St. John the
Divine; and knowing what I know about the men who contributed its
funds, and about the general functions of the churches of the
Metropolis of Mammon, it would not seem to me less holy if it
were built, like the monuments of ancient ravagers, out of the
skulls of human beings.