| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Give Me Liberty Or Give Me Death by Patrick Henry: to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our
petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and
darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and
reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that
force must be called in to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves,
sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation; the last arguments to
which kings resort. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if
its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other
possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of
the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir,
she has none. They are meant for us: they can be meant for no other.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Travels with a Donkey in the Cevenne by Robert Louis Stevenson: to say, a piece of comedy.
My DEUS EX MACHINA, before he left me, supplied some excellent, if
inhumane, advice; presented me with the switch, which he declared
she would feel more tenderly than my cane; and finally taught me
the true cry or masonic word of donkey-drivers, 'Proot!' All the
time, he regarded me with a comical, incredulous air, which was
embarrassing to confront; and smiled over my donkey-driving, as I
might have smiled over his orthography, or his green tail-coat.
But it was not my turn for the moment.
I was proud of my new lore, and thought I had learned the art to
perfection. And certainly Modestine did wonders for the rest of
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Exiles by Honore de Balzac: Arriving there without being bidden, and saying, 'Here I am!' before
your time, would you not have been cast back into a world beneath that
where your soul now hovers? Poor outcast cherub! Should you not rather
bless God for having suffered you to live in a sphere where you may
hear none but heavenly harmonies? Are you not as pure as a diamond, as
lovely as a flower?
"Think what it is to know, like me, only the City of Sorrows!--
Dwelling there I have worn out my heart.--To search the tombs for
their horrible secrets; to wipe hands steeped in blood, counting them
over night after night, seeing them rise up before me imploring
forgiveness which I may not grant; to mark the writhing of the
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