|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Soul of the Far East by Percival Lowell:
power to adopt whom he will gives him more voice in the matter of
his unnatural offspring than he ever had in the selection of a more
The adopted changes his name, of course, to take that of the family
he enters. As he is very frequently grown up and extensively known
at the time the adoption takes place, his change of cognomen
occasions at first some slight confusion among his acquaintance.
This would be no worse, however, than the change with us from the
maid to the matron, and intercourse would soon proceed smoothly
again if people would only rest content with one such domestic
migration. But they do not. The fatal facility of the process
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Beyond Good and Evil by Friedrich Nietzsche:
but he is no goal, not outgoing nor upgoing, no complementary man
in whom the REST of existence justifies itself, no termination--
and still less a commencement, an engendering, or primary cause,
nothing hardy, powerful, self-centred, that wants to be master;
but rather only a soft, inflated, delicate, movable potter's-
form, that must wait for some kind of content and frame to
"shape" itself thereto--for the most part a man without frame and
content, a "selfless" man. Consequently, also, nothing for women,
208. When a philosopher nowadays makes known that he is not a
skeptic--I hope that has been gathered from the foregoing
Beyond Good and Evil
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Yates Pride by Mary E. Wilkins Freeman:
replied Eudora, "and especially such a very light baby."
Something whimsical crept into Eudora's voice; something
whimsical crept into the love-light of the other women's eyes.
Again a soft ripple of mirth swept over them.
"Especially a baby who never cries," said Amelia.
"No, he never does cry," said Eudora, demurely.
They laughed again. Then Amelia rose and left the room to get
the tea-things. The old serving-woman who had lived with them
for many years was suffering from rheumatism, and was cared for
by her daughter in the little cottage across the road from the
Lancaster house. Her husband and grandson were the man and boy