| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Lost Princess of Oz by L. Frank Baum: Dorothy now realized that Ugu must be treated as an enemy, so she
advanced toward the corner in which he sat, saying as she went, "I am
not afraid of you, Mr. Shoemaker, and I think you'll be sorry, pretty
soon, that you're such a bad man. You can't destroy me, and I won't
destroy you, but I'm going to punish you for your wickedness."
Ugu laughed, a laugh that was not nice to hear, and then he waved his
hand. Dorothy was halfway across the room when suddenly a wall of
glass rose before her and stopped her progress. Through the glass she
could see the magician sneering at her because she was a weak little
girl, and this provoked her. Although the glass wall obliged her to
halt, she instantly pressed both hands to her Magic Belt and cried in
The Lost Princess of Oz |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton: to the girl's cheek, mantled her brow to the roots of her
fair braids, and suffused the young slope of her breast
to the line where it met a modest tulle tucker fastened
with a single gardenia. She dropped her eyes to the
immense bouquet of lilies-of-the-valley on her knee,
and Newland Archer saw her white-gloved finger-tips
touch the flowers softly. He drew a breath of satisfied
vanity and his eyes returned to the stage.
No expense had been spared on the setting, which
was acknowledged to be very beautiful even by people
who shared his acquaintance with the Opera houses of
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Duchesse de Langeais by Honore de Balzac: with the impulse of repentance--blended with the myriad fancies
of every creed. Yes. In those long vaulted aisles the melodies
inspired by the sense of things divine are blent with a grandeur
unknown before, are decked with new glory and might. Out of the
dim daylight, and the deep silence broken by the chanting of the
choir in response to the thunder of the organ, a veil is woven
for God, and the brightness of His attributes shines through it.
And this wealth of holy things seemed to be flung down like a
grain of incense upon the fragile altar raised to Love beneath
the eternal throne of a jealous and avenging God. Indeed, in the
joy of the nun there was little of that awe and gravity which
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