|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Twilight Land by Howard Pyle:
gardens and fountains and terraces fitting for such a place, and
let it be meetly served with slaves, both men and women, the most
beautiful that are to be found in all the world."
"Is there aught else that thou wouldst have?" asked the Genie.
The fagot-maker meditated a long time. "I can bethink myself of
nothing more just now," said he.
The Genie turned to the captain of the troop and said some words
to him in a strange tongue, and then in a moment was gone. The
captain gave the order to march, and away they all rode with
Abdallah in the midst. "Who would have thought," said he, looking
around him, with the heart within him swelling with pride as
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Sanitary and Social Lectures by Charles Kingsley:
"Take us home, take us home, you soft air-mothers, now our fathers
the sunbeams are grown dull. Our green summer beauty is all
draggled, and our faces are grown wan and wan; and the buds, the
children whom we nourished, thrust us off, ungrateful, from our
seats. Waft us down, you soft air-mothers, upon your wings to the
quiet earth, that we may go to our home, as all things go, and
become air and sunlight once again."
And the bold young fir-seeds know them, and rattle impatient in
their cones. "Blow stronger, blow fiercer, slow air-mothers, and
shake us from our prisons of dead wood, that we may fly and spin
away north-eastward, each on his horny wing. Help us but to touch
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories by Alice Dunbar:
Tak' one, I know you lak dat w'ite one. It tas' good, I know,
"Pralines, madame? I lak' you' face. What fo' you wear black?
You' lil' boy daid? You tak' one, jes' see how it tas'. I had
one lil' boy once, he jes' grow 'twell he's big lak' dis, den one
day he tak' sick an' die. Oh, madame, it mos' brek my po' heart.
I burn candle in St. Rocque, I say my beads, I sprinkle holy
water roun' he's bed; he jes' lay so, he's eyes turn up, he say
'Maman, maman,' den he die! Madame, you tak' one. Non, non, no
l'argent, you tak' one fo' my lil' boy's sake.
"Pralines, pralines, m'sieu? Who mak' dese? My lil' gal,
The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories