|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Philosophy 4 by Owen Wister:
joviality. "If you kep' at it long enough you might a-most learn to
drive a horse," he continued, eying Bertie. This came as near direct
praise as the true son of our soil--Northern or Southern--often thinks
well of. Bertie was pleased, but made a modest observation, and "Are we
near the tavern?" he asked. "Bird-in-Hand!" the son of the soil echoed;
and he contemplated them from his gate. That's me," he stated, with
complacence. "Bill Diggs of the Bird-in-Hand has been me since April,
'65." His massy hair had been yellow, his broad body must have weighed
two hundred and fifty pounds, his face was canny, red, and somewhat
clerical, resembling Henry Ward Beecher's.
"Trout," he said, pointing to a basket by the gate. "For your dinner.
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Burning Daylight by Jack London:
"You're not a farmer," Daylight said. The young man laughed and
shook his head. "No; I'm a telegraph operator. But the wife and
I decided to take a two years' vacation, and... here we are
But the time's about up. I'm going back into the office this
fall after I get the grapes off."
Yes, there were about eleven acres in the vineyard--wine grapes.
The price was usually good. He grew most of what they ate. If
he owned the place, he'd clear a patch of land on the side-hill
above the vineyard and plant a small home orchard. The soil was
good. There was plenty of pasturage all over the ranch, and
there were several cleared patches, amounting to about fifteen
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from At the Mountains of Madness by H. P. Lovecraft:
of the general surface; and that their regularity was extreme
and uncanny to an extent which poor Lake had scarcely hinted.
As he had said, their edges were crumbled and rounded from untold
aeons of savage weathering; but their preternatural solidity and
tough material had saved them from obliteration. Many parts, especially
those closest to the slopes, seemed identical in substance with
the surrounding rock surface. The whole arrangement looked like
the ruins of Macchu Picchu in the Andes, or the primal foundation
walls of Kish as dug up by the Oxford Field Museum Expedition
in 1929; and both Danforth and I obtained that occasional impression
of separate Cyclopean blocks which Lake had attributed to his
At the Mountains of Madness