| 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 The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories by Alice Dunbar: Tonita, how goes you' beezness?
"Pralines, pralines! Holy Father, you give me dat blessin' sho'?
Tak' one, I know you lak dat w'ite one. It tas' good, I know,
bien.
"Pralines, madame? I lak' you' face. What fo' you wear black?
You' lil' boy daid? You tak' one, jes' see how it tas'. I had
one lil' boy once, he jes' grow 'twell he's big lak' dis, den one
day he tak' sick an' die. Oh, madame, it mos' brek my po' heart.
I burn candle in St. Rocque, I say my beads, I sprinkle holy
water roun' he's bed; he jes' lay so, he's eyes turn up, he say
'Maman, maman,' den he die! Madame, you tak' one. Non, non, no
The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Complete Poems of Longfellow by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: Meanwhile the boy, rejoicing in his strength,
Stormed down the terraces from length to length;
The screaming peacock chased in hot pursuit,
And climbed the garden trellises for fruit.
But his chief pastime was to watch the flight
Of a gerfalcon, soaring into sight,
Beyond the trees that fringed the garden wall,
Then downward stooping at some distant call;
And as he gazed full often wondered he
Who might the master of the falcon be,
Until that happy morning, when he found
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