|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Witch, et. al by Anton Chekhov:
wrapped the dead baby in its little quilt and carried it home.
The hospital, a new one recently built, with big windows, stood
high up on a hill; it was glittering from the setting sun and
looked as though it were on fire from inside. There was a little
village below. Lipa went down along the road, and before reaching
the village sat down by a pond. A woman brought a horse down to
drink and the horse did not drink.
"What more do you want?" said the woman to it softly. "What do
A boy in a red shirt, sitting at the water's edge, was washing
his father's boots. And not another soul was in sight either in
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from My Bondage and My Freedom by Frederick Douglass:
the wicked while slavery continues in the land. It will be
condemned; and while it is condemned there will be agitation.
Nature must cease to be nature; men must become monsters;
humanity must be transformed; Christianity must be exterminated;
all ideas of justice and the laws of eternal goodness must be
utterly blotted out from the human soul--ere a system so foul and
infernal can escape condemnation, or this guilty republic can
have a sound, enduring peace.
INHUMANITY OF SLAVERY
_Extract from A Lecture on Slavery, at Rochester,
December 8, 1850_
My Bondage and My Freedom
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Roads of Destiny by O. Henry:
epaulettes and curly moustaches and Grecian profiles in other men were
never in my way. When people first look at me they shudder. Unless
they are in the last stages of /angina pectoris/ they are mine in ten
minutes after I begin to talk. Women and men--I win 'em as they come.
Now, you wouldn't think women would fancy a man with a face like mine,
"Oh, yes, Mr. Tate," said I. "History is bright and fiction dull with
homely men who have charmed women. There seems--"
"Pardon me," interrupted Judson Tate, "but you don't quite understand.
You have yet to hear my story.
"Fergus McMahan was a friend of mine in the capital. For a handsome