| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Thus Spake Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche: enchaineth, whose mockery--pleadeth:
--Who would not hate thee, thou great bindress, inwindress, temptress,
seekress, findress! Who would not love thee, thou innocent, impatient,
wind-swift, child-eyed sinner!
Whither pullest thou me now, thou paragon and tomboy? And now foolest thou
me fleeing; thou sweet romp dost annoy!
I dance after thee, I follow even faint traces lonely. Where art thou?
Give me thy hand! Or thy finger only!
Here are caves and thickets: we shall go astray!--Halt! Stand still!
Seest thou not owls and bats in fluttering fray?
Thou bat! Thou owl! Thou wouldst play me foul? Where are we? From the
Thus Spake Zarathustra |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Death of the Lion by Henry James: time and protecting his privacy. She further made his health her
special business, and had so much sympathy with my own zeal for it
that she was the author of pleasing fictions on the subject of what
my devotion had led me to give up. I gave up nothing (I don't
count Mr. Pinhorn) because I had nothing, and all I had as yet
achieved was to find myself also in the menagerie. I had dashed in
to save my friend, but I had only got domesticated and wedged; so
that I could do little more for him than exchange with him over
people's heads looks of intense but futile intelligence.
CHAPTER VII.
THE young lady in the dining-room had a brave face, black hair,
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Ann Veronica by H. G. Wells: Miss Stanley struggled with emotion. She made a curious movement
toward her niece, then suddenly, convulsively, she dabbed down
something lumpy on the table and turned to follow her brother.
Ann Veronica stared for a moment in amazement at this dark-green
object that clashed as it was put down. It was a purse. She made
a step forward. "Aunt!" she said, "I can't--"
Then she caught a wild appeal in her aunt's blue eye, halted, and
the door clicked upon them.
There was a pause, and then the front door slammed. . . .
Ann Veronica realized that she was alone with the world. And
this time the departure had a tremendous effect of finality. She
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