|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from God The Invisible King by H. G. Wells:
abnormal forms. They tap deep founts of impulse, such as we of the
safer ways of mediocrity do but glimpse under the influence of
drugs, or in dreams and rare moments of controllable extravagance.
Then the insane become "glorious," or they become murderous, or they
become suicidal. All these letter-writers in confinement have
convinced their fellow-creatures by some extravagance that they are
a danger to themselves or others.
The letters that come from such types written during their sane
intervals, are entirely sane. Some, who are probably unaware--I
think they should know--of the offences or possibilities that
justify their incarceration, write with a certain resentment at
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Reign of King Edward the Third by William Shakespeare:
What canst thou promise that I cannot break?
Which of these twain is greater infamy,
To disobey thy father or thy self?
Thy word, nor no mans, may exceed his power;
Nor that same man doth never break his word,
That keeps it to the utmost of his power.
The breach of faith dwells in the soul's consent:
Which if thy self without consent do break,
Thou art not charged with the breach of faith.
Go, hang him: for thy license lies in me,
And my constraint stands the excuse for thee.
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Vendetta by Honore de Balzac:
and the same sentiment. The friendship of Ginevra for Luigi and that
of Luigi for Ginevra made more progress in a month than a friendship
in society would make in ten years. Adversity is the touchstone of
character. Ginevra was able, therefore, to study Luigi, to know him;
and before long they mutually esteemed each other. The girl, who was
older than Luigi, found a charm in being courted by a youth already so
grand, so tried by fate,--a youth who joined to the experience of a
man the graces of adolescence. Luigi, on his side, felt an unspeakable
pleasure in allowing himself to be apparently protected by a woman,
now twenty-five years of age. Was it not a proof of love? The union of
gentleness and pride, strength and weakness in Ginevra were, to him,