| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Edingburgh Picturesque Notes by Robert Louis Stevenson: the ground, how each stands out in delicate relief
against the rest, what manifold detail, and play of sun
and shadow, animate and accentuate the picture, is a
matter for a person on the spot, and turning swiftly on
his heels, to grasp and bind together in one
comprehensive look. It is the character of such a
prospect, to be full of change and of things moving. The
multiplicity embarrasses the eye; and the mind, among so
much, suffers itself to grow absorbed with single points.
You remark a tree in a hedgerow, or follow a cart along a
country road. You turn to the city, and see children,
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge by Ambrose Bierce: unknown tongue.
His neck was in pain and lifting his hand to it found it
horribly swollen. He knew that it had a circle of black
where the rope had bruised it. His eyes felt congested; he
could no longer close them. His tongue was swollen with
thirst; he relieved its fever by thrusting it forward from
between his teeth into the cold air. How softly the turf had
carpeted the untraveled avenue -- he could no longer feel the
roadway beneath his feet!
Doubtless, despite his suffering, he had fallen asleep while
walking, for now he sees another scene -- perhaps he has
An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Heroes by Charles Kingsley: left, till he came to the Unshapen Land, and the place which
has no name.
And seven days he walked through it, on a path which few can
tell; for those who have trodden it like least to speak of
it, and those who go there again in dreams are glad enough
when they awake; till he came to the edge of the everlasting
night, where the air was full of feathers, and the soil was
hard with ice; and there at last he found the three Gray
Sisters, by the shore of the freezing sea, nodding upon a
white log of drift-wood, beneath the cold white winter moon;
and they chaunted a low song together, 'Why the old times
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