|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:
subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain.
Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we
find which have not been already exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir,
deceive ourselves. Sir, we have done everything that could be done to avert
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
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Anthem by Ayn Rand:
hid the great secrets and perhaps great evils.
And yet it stirs no fear within our heart,
but only silent reverence and pity.
May knowledge come to us! What is the
secret our heart has understood and yet will
not reveal to us, although it seems to beat
as if it were endeavoring to tell it?
I am. I think. I will.
My hands . . . My spirit . . . My sky . . .
My forest . . . This earth of mine. . . .
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Heritage of the Desert by Zane Grey:
"What luck!" Hare muttered through clinched teeth, and pulled hard on the
bridle. But the mouth of the stallion was iron; regardless of the sawing
bit, he galloped on. Hare called steadily: "Whoa there, Silver! Whoa--
slow now--whoa--easy!" and finally halted him. Hare swung down, and as
he lifted Mescal off, the saddle slipped to the ground.
"Lucky not to get a spill! The girth snapped. It was wet, and dried
out." Hare hurriedly began to repair the break with buckskin thongs that
he found in a saddle-bag.
"Listen! Hear the yells!" Oh! hurry!" cried Mescal.
"I've never ridden bareback. Suppose you go ahead with Silver, and I'll
hide in the cedars till dark, then walk home!"
The Heritage of the Desert