|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf:
of man for woman, what more commanding, more impressive, bearing in its
bosom the seeds of death; at the same time these lovers, these people
entering into illusion glittering eyed, must be danced round with
mockery, decorated with garlands.
"It is a triumph," said Mr Bankes, laying his knife down for a moment.
He had eaten attentively. It was rich; it was tender. It was perfectly
cooked. How did she manage these things in the depths of the country?
he asked her. She was a wonderful woman. All his love, all his
reverence, had returned; and she knew it.
"It is a French recipe of my grandmother's," said Mrs Ramsay, speaking
with a ring of great pleasure in her voice. Of course it was French.
To the Lighthouse
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Heart of the West by O. Henry:
"Pretty soon I got a regular habit of dropping into the tent to eat at
irregular times when there wasn't so many around. Mame would sail in
with a smile, in a black dress and white apron, and say: 'Hello, Jeff
--why don't you come at mealtime? Want to see how much trouble you can
be, of course. Friedchickenbeefsteakporkchopshamandeggspotpie'--and so
on. She called me Jeff, but there was no significations attached.
Designations was all she meant. The front names of any of us she used
as they came to hand. I'd eat about two meals before I left, and
string 'em out like a society spread where they changed plates and
wives, and josh one another festively between bites. Mame stood for
it, pleasant, for it wasn't up to her to take any canvas off the tent
Heart of the West
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Concerning Christian Liberty by Martin Luther:
well-pleasing to Him whom he desires to obey most dutifully in
On this principle every man may easily instruct himself in what
measure, and with what distinctions, he ought to chasten his own
body. He will fast, watch, and labour, just as much as he sees to
suffice for keeping down the wantonness and concupiscence of the
body. But those who pretend to be justified by works are looking,
not to the mortification of their lusts, but only to the works
themselves; thinking that, if they can accomplish as many works
and as great ones as possible, all is well with them, and they
are justified. Sometimes they even injure their brain, and