| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The King of the Golden River by John Ruskin: in the valley from one year's end to another. Though everything
remained green and flourishing in the plains below, the inheritance
of the three brothers was a desert. What had once been the richest
soil in the kingdom became a shifting heap of red sand, and the
brothers, unable longer to contend with the adverse skies, abandoned
their valueless patrimony in despair, to seek some means of gaining
a livelihood among the cities and people of the plains. All their
money was gone, and they had nothing left but some curious old-
fashioned pieces of gold plate, the last remnants of their ill-
gotten wealth.
"Suppose we turn goldsmiths," said Schwartz to Hans as they
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Some Reminiscences by Joseph Conrad: revolutionary work; he himself was of that type of Polish squire
whose only ideal of patriotic action was to "get into the saddle
and drive them out." But even he agreed that "dear Nicholas must
not be worried." All this considerate caution on the part of
friends, both conspirators and others, did not prevent Mr.
Nicholas B. being made to feel the misfortunes of that ill-omened
year.
Less than forty-eight hours after the beginning of the rebellion
in that part of the country, a squadron of scouting Cossacks
passed through the village and invaded the homestead. Most of
them remained formed between the house and the stables, while
Some Reminiscences |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Faith of Men by Jack London: white men that had looked upon her and felt her power. But she
gazed upon the wide blue eyes and rose-white skin of this woman
that advanced to meet her, and she measured her with woman's eyes
looking through man's eyes; and as a man compeller she felt herself
diminish and grow insignificant before this radiant and flashing
creature.
"You wish to see my husband?" the woman asked; and Jees Uck gasped
at the liquid silver of a voice that had never sounded harsh cries
at snarling wolf-dogs, nor moulded itself to a guttural speech, nor
toughened in storm and frost and camp smoke.
"No," Jees Uck answered slowly and gropingly, in order that she
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