| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories by Alice Dunbar: Malatesta, but that was unauthentic, and as little to be believed
as that other wild theory that her name was Mary.
She was meek, pale, little, ugly, and German. Altogether part of
his arms and legs would have very decently made another larger
than she. Her hair was pale and drawn in sleek, thin tightness
away from a pinched, pitiful face, whose dull cold eyes hurt you,
because you knew they were trying to mirror sorrow, and could not
because of their expressionless quality. No matter what the
weather or what her other toilet, she always wore a thin little
shawl of dingy brick-dust hue about her shoulders. No matter
what the occasion or what the day, she always carried her
The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Island Nights' Entertainments by Robert Louis Stevenson: a long mound of stones. They say it reaches right across the
island, but how they know it is another question, for I doubt if
anyone has made the journey in a hundred years, the natives
sticking chiefly to the sea and their little colonies along the
coast, and that part being mortal high and steep and full of
cliffs. Up to the west side of the wall, the ground has been
cleared, and there are cocoa palms and mummy-apples and guavas, and
lots of sensitive plants. Just across, the bush begins outright;
high bush at that, trees going up like the masts of ships, and
ropes of liana hanging down like a ship's rigging, and nasty
orchids growing in the forks like funguses. The ground where there
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Maria, or the Wrongs of Woman by Mary Wollstonecraft: property was settled, prevented me from making the addition to the
fortune of my surviving sister, that I could have wished; but I
had prevailed on him to bequeath her two thousand pounds, and she
determined to marry a lover, to whom she had been some time attached.
Had it not been for this engagement, I should have invited her to
accompany me in my tour; and I might have escaped the pit, so
artfully dug in my path, when I was the least aware of danger.
"I had thought of remaining in England, till I weaned my child;
but this state of freedom was too peaceful to last, and I had soon
reason to wish to hasten my departure. A friend of Mr. Venables,
the same attorney who had accompanied him in several excursions to
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