| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from At the Mountains of Madness by H. P. Lovecraft: suggestiveness we could not escape, and gave us a touch of terrible
subconscious certainty concerning the primal entities which had
reared and dwelt in this unhallowed place.
Nevertheless, our
scientific and adventurous souls were not wholly dead, and we
mechanically carried out our program of chipping specimens from
all the different rock types represented in the masonry. We wished
a rather full set in order to draw better conclusions regarding
the age of the place. Nothing in the great outer walls seemed
to date from later than the Jurassic and Comanchian periods, nor
was any piece of stone in the entire place of a greater recency
At the Mountains of Madness |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Gettysburg Address by Abraham Lincoln: we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead,
who struggled here have consecrated it, far above our poor power
to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember,
what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.
It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished
work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced.
It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining
before us. . .that from these honored dead we take increased devotion
to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion. . .
that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain. . .
that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom. . .
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Chronicles of the Canongate by Walter Scott: tongue to utter a single word of Gaelic. It was in vain Robin
spent a whole morning, during a walk over Minch Moor, in
attempting to teach his companion to utter, with true precision,
the shibboleth LLHU, which is the Gaelic for a calf. From
Traquair to Murder Cairn, the hill rung with the discordant
attempts of the Saxon upon the unmanageable monosyllable, and the
heartfelt laugh which followed every failure. They had, however,
better modes of awakening the echoes; for Wakefield could sing
many a ditty to the praise of Moll, Susan, and Cicely, and Robin
Oig had a particular gift at whistling interminable pibrochs
through all their involutions, and what was more agreeable to his
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