| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Nada the Lily by H. Rider Haggard: them the time that he should have given to matters of the State. Yet
he reigned awhile in the land. I must tell this also; that Dingaan
would have killed Panda, his half-brother, so that the house of
Senzangacona, his father, might be swept out clean. Now Panda was a
man of gentle heart, who did not love war, and therefore it was
thought that he was half-witted; and, because I loved Panda, when the
question of his slaying came on, I and the chief Mapita spoke against
it, and pleaded for him, saying that there was nothing to be feared at
his hands who was a fool. So in the end Dingaan gave way, saying,
"Well, you ask me to spare this dog, and I will spare him, but one day
he will bite me."
 Nada the Lily |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Alexandria and her Schools by Charles Kingsley: our eyes, as a moral being. All accounts of him seem to prove him to
have been what Apollo, in a lengthy oracle, declared him to have been,
"good and gentle, and benignant exceedingly, and pleasant in all his
conversation." He gave good advice about earthly matters, was a
faithful steward of moneys deposited with him, a guardian of widows and
orphans, a righteous and loving man. In his practical life, the ascetic
and gnostic element comes out strongly enough. The body, with him, was
not evil, neither was it good; it was simply nothing--why care about it?
He would have no portrait taken of his person: "It was humiliating
enough to be obliged to carry a shadow about with him, without having a
shadow made of that shadow." He refused animal food, abstained from
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Howard Pyle's Book of Pirates by Howard Pyle: through the watery stillness of the night as the boat drew nearer
and nearer. But he knew nothing of what it all meant, nor whether
these others were friends or enemies, or what was to happen next.
The oarsmen of the approaching boat did not for a moment cease
their rowing, not till they had come pretty close to Barnaby and
his companions. Then a man who sat in the stern ordered them to
cease rowing, and as they lay on their oars he stood up. As they
passed by, Barnaby True could see him very plain, the moonlight
shining full upon him--a large, stout gentleman with a round red
face, and clad in a fine laced coat of red cloth. Amidship of the
boat was a box or chest about the bigness of a middle-sized
 Howard Pyle's Book of Pirates |