|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Glimpses of the Moon by Edith Wharton:
you--I can't go to the Embassy. I can't go on any longer like
this ...." She lifted her eyes to his in desperate appeal.
"Oh, understand-do please understand!" she wailed, knowing,
while she spoke, the utter impossibility of what she asked.
Strefford's face had gradually paled and hardened. From sallow
it turned to a dusky white, and lines of obstinacy deepened
between the ironic eyebrows and about the weak amused mouth.
"Understand? What do you want me to understand," He laughed.
"That you're trying to chuck me already?"
She shrank at the sneer of the "already," but instantly
remembered that it was the only thing he could be expected to
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Psychology of Revolution by Gustave le Bon:
Voltaire himself was by no means a partisan of democracy.
``Democracy,'' he said, ``seems only to suit a very small
country, and even then it must be fortunately situated.
Little as it may be, it will make many mistakes, because it will
be composed of men. Discord will prevail there as in a convent
full of monks; but there will be no St. Bartholomew's day, no
Irish massacres, no Sicilian Vespers, no Inquisition, no
condemnation to the galleys for having taken water from the sea
without paying for it; unless we suppose this republic to be
composed of devils in a corner of hell.''
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Soul of a Bishop by H. G. Wells:
irritated by strange compounds and unsoothed by familiar
lubricants. But chemical disorders follow mental disturbances,
and the core and essence of his trouble was an intellectual
distress. For the first time in his life he was really in doubt,
about himself, about his way of living, about all his
persuasions. It was a general doubt. It was not a specific
suspicion upon this point or that. It was a feeling of detachment
and unreality at once extraordinarily vague and extraordinarily
oppressive. It was as if he discovered himself flimsy and
transparent in a world of minatory solidity and opacity. It was
as if he found himself made not of flesh and blood but of tissue