| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Shadow out of Time by H. P. Lovecraft: soul with their message were I not guarded by a merciful ignorance.
Still later my dreams included vistas from the great round windows,
and from the titanic flat roof, with its curious gardens, wide
barren area, and high, scalloped parapet of stone, to which the
topmost of the inclined planes led.
There were, almost endless
leagues of giant buildings, each in its garden, and ranged along
paved roads fully 200 feet wide. They differed greatly in aspect,
but few were less than 500 feet square or a thousand feet high.
Many seemed so limitless that they must have had a frontage of
several thousand feet, while some shot up to mountainous altitudes
 Shadow out of Time |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from In the South Seas by Robert Louis Stevenson: extends from tropic to tropic, and from perhaps 123 degrees W. to
150 degrees E., a parallelogram of one hundred degrees by forty-
seven, where degrees are the most spacious. Much of it lies
vacant, much is closely sown with isles, and the isles are of two
sorts. No distinction is so continually dwelt upon in South Sea
talk as that between the 'low' and the 'high' island, and there is
none more broadly marked in nature. The Himalayas are not more
different from the Sahara. On the one hand, and chiefly in groups
of from eight to a dozen, volcanic islands rise above the sea; few
reach an altitude of less than 4000 feet; one exceeds 13,000; their
tops are often obscured in cloud, they are all clothed with various
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Padre Ignacio by Owen Wister: did not mean this any more than his host had meant his remark about the
food. In his pack, which an Indian had brought from his horse, he carried
some garments of civilization. And presently, after fresh water and not a
little painstaking with brush and scarf, there came back to the Padre a
young guest whose elegance and bearing and ease of the great world were
to the exiled priest as sweet as was his traveled conversation.
They repaired to the hall and took their seats at the head of the long
table. For the Spanish centuries of stately custom lived at Santa YsabeI
del Mar, inviolate, feudal, remote.
They were the only persons of quality present; and between themselves and
the gente de razon a space intervened. Behind the Padre's chair stood an
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