The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Wrong Box by Stevenson & Osbourne: The unfortunate Joseph was cut to the pattern of Sir Faraday in
every button; he was shod with the health boot; his suit was of
genuine ventilating cloth; his shirt of hygienic flannel, a
somewhat dingy fabric; and he was draped to the knees in the
inevitable greatcoat of marten's fur. The very railway porters at
Bournemouth (which was a favourite station of the doctor's)
marked the old gentleman for a creature of Sir Faraday. There was
but one evidence of personal taste, a vizarded forage cap; from
this form of headpiece, since he had fled from a dying jackal on
the plains of Ephesus, and weathered a bora in the Adriatic,
nothing could divorce our traveller.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Passionate Pilgrim by William Shakespeare: And would not take her meaning nor her pleasure.
Ah, that I had my lady at this bay,
To kiss and clip me till I run away!
XII.
Crabbed age and youth cannot live together
Youth is full of pleasance, age is full of care;
Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather;
Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare;
Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short;
Youth is nimble, age is lame;
Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold;
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Where There's A Will by Mary Roberts Rinehart: emptied the glass.
Well, I found a couple of apples in my pantry and brought them
out, and after he ate them he told me what had happened to him.
He had been a little of everything since he left college he was
about twenty-five had crossed the Atlantic in a catboat and gone
with somebody or other into some part of Africa--they got lost
and had to eat each other or lizards, or something like that--and
then he went to the Philippines, and got stuck there and had to
sell books to get home. He had a little money, "enough for a
grub-stake," he said, and all his folks were dead. Then a
college friend of his wrote a rural play called Sweet Peas--
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