|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Frankenstein by Mary Shelley:
while the lineaments of his face are irradiated by the soul within.
Strange and harrowing must be his story, frightful the storm which
embraced the gallant vessel on its course and wrecked it--thus!
I am by birth a Genevese, and my family is one of the most distinguished
of that republic. My ancestors had been for many years counsellors
and syndics, and my father had filled several public situations
with honour and reputation. He was respected by all who knew him
for his integrity and indefatigable attention to public business.
He passed his younger days perpetually occupied by the affairs of
his country; a variety of circumstances had prevented his marrying
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Black Beauty by Anna Sewell:
Jerry thanked him kindly, and came back to Dolly.
"There, Dolly, that's a gentleman; that's a real gentleman, Dolly;
he has got time and thought for the comfort of a poor cabman
and a little girl."
Jerry finished his soup, set the child across, and then took his orders
to drive to Clapham Rise. Several times after that the same gentleman
took our cab. I think he was very fond of dogs and horses,
for whenever we took him to his own door two or three dogs
would come bounding out to meet him. Sometimes he came round and patted me,
saying in his quiet, pleasant way, "This horse has got a good master,
and he deserves it." It was a very rare thing for any one to notice
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table by Oliver Wendell Holmes:
bright sparkle at our bows; - the ruffled bosom of prosperity and
progress, with a sprig of diamonds stuck in it! But this is only
the sentimental side of the matter; for grow we must, if we outgrow
all that we love.
Don't misunderstand that metaphor of heaving the log, I beg you.
It is merely a smart way of saying that we cannot avoid measuring
our rate of movement by those with whom we have long been in the
habit of comparing ourselves; and when they once become stationary,
we can get our reckoning from them with painful accuracy. We see
just what we were when they were our peers, and can strike the
balance between that and whatever we may feel ourselves to be now.
The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table