| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from In Darkest England and The Way Out by General William Booth: possess. They are, with some exceptions, untrained to labour,
demoralised by a life of debauchery, accustomed to the wildest license,
emancipated from all discipline but that of starvation, given to drink,
and, for the most part, impaired in health. If, therefore,
any considerable number of this class can be shown to be ready to
submit themselves voluntarily to discipline, to endure deprivation of
drink, and to apply themselves steadily to industry, then example will
go a long way towards proving that even the worst description of
humanity, when intelligently, thoroughly handled, is amenable to
discipline and willing to work. In our British Rescue Homes we receive
considerably over a thousand unfortunates every year; while all over
 In Darkest England and The Way Out |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Trooper Peter Halket of Mashonaland by Olive Schreiner: seeking for them ever since."
The stranger warmed his hands slowly at the fire; then he raised his head:-
-"They are camped at the foot of those hills tonight," he said, pointing
with his hand into the darkness at the left. "Tomorrow early they will be
here, before the sun has risen."
"Oh, you've met them, have you!" said Peter joyfully; "that's why you
weren't surprised at finding me here. Take a drop!" He took the small
flask from his pocket and held it out. "I'm sorry there's so little, but a
drop will keep the cold out."
The stranger bowed his head; but thanked and declined.
Peter raised the flask to his lips and took a small draught; then returned
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Hermione's Little Group of Serious Thinkers by Don Marquis: I went to a Soul Fight at Hermione's
And nothing normal can describe it . . .
It was beyond rhyme, reason, rum, rhubarb or
rhythm . . .
Therefore, Vers Libre Muse, help me!
Imagist outcast with the bleary eyes,
My psychic Pup, my polyrhythmic hound, lift up
Your voice and help me howl!
Tenth Muse, doggerel muse, slink hither, brute,
And lick your master's hand . . . I've need of
Thee . . .
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