|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from King Lear by William Shakespeare:
Stocking his messenger.
Corn. Fetch forth the stocks! As I have life and honour,
There shall he sit till noon.
Reg. Till noon? Till night, my lord, and all night too!
Kent. Why, madam, if I were your father's dog,
You should not use me so.
Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will.
Corn. This is a fellow of the selfsame colour
Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away the stocks!
Stocks brought out.
Glou. Let me beseech your Grace not to do so.
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Herbert West: Reanimator by H. P. Lovecraft:
new and radical methods for the treatment of hitherto hopeless
cases of maiming. There he worked like a butcher in the midst
of his gory wares -- I could never get used to the levity with
which he handled and classified certain things. At times he actually
did perform marvels of surgery for the soldiers; but his chief
delights were of a less public and philanthropic kind, requiring
many explanations of sounds which seemed peculiar even amidst
that babel of the damned. Among these sounds were frequent revolver-shots
-- surely not uncommon on a battlefield, but distinctly uncommon
in an hospital. Dr. West’s reanimated specimens were not meant
for long existence or a large audience. Besides human tissue,
Herbert West: Reanimator
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions by Edwin A. Abbot:
But the Monarch replied, "If you were a Man of sense -- though,
as you appear to have only one voice I have little doubt
you are not a Man but a Woman -- but, if you had a particle of sense,
you would listen to reason. You ask me to believe that there is
another Line besides that which my senses indicate, and another motion
besides that of which I am daily conscious. I, in return,
ask you to describe in words or indicate by motion that other Line
of which you speak. Instead of moving, you merely exercise
some magic art of vanishing and returning to sight; and instead of
any lucid description of your new World, you simply tell me
the numbers and sizes of some forty of my retinue, facts known
Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions