|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Give Me Liberty Or Give Me Death by Patrick Henry:
the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated;
we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have
implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and
Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced
additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded;
and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne!
In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and
reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free--
if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which
we have been so long contending--if we mean not basely to abandon the noble
struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Figure in the Carpet by Henry James:
added: "I mean you won't be silly."
"Silly - about Vereker! Why what do I ever find him but awfully
"Well, what's that but silly? What on earth does 'awfully clever'
mean? For God's sake try to get AT him. Don't let him suffer by
our arrangement. Speak of him, you know, if you can, as I should
have spoken of him."
I wondered an instant. "You mean as far and away the biggest of
the lot - that sort of thing?"
Corvick almost groaned. "Oh you know, I don't put them back to
back that way; it's the infancy of art! But he gives me a pleasure
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Touchstone by Edith Wharton:
advantage by any betrayal of indifference. During the first year
of her widowhood their friendship dragged on with halting renewals
of sentiment, becoming more and more a banquet of empty dishes
from which the covers were never removed; then Glennard went to
New York to live and exchanged the faded pleasures of intercourse
for the comparative novelty of correspondence. Her letters, oddly
enough, seemed at first to bring her nearer than her presence.
She had adopted, and she successfully maintained, a note as
affectionately impersonal as his own; she wrote ardently of her
work, she questioned him about his, she even bantered him on the
inevitable pretty girl who was certain before long to divert the