| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Mirror of the Sea by Joseph Conrad: he was too simple to go mad, too simple with that manly simplicity
which alone can bear men unscathed in mind and body through an
encounter with the deadly playfulness of the sea or with its less
abominable fury.
Neither angry, nor playful, nor smiling, it enveloped our distant
ship growing bigger as she neared us, our boats with the rescued
men and the dismantled hull of the brig we were leaving behind, in
the large and placid embrace of its quietness, half lost in the
fair haze, as if in a dream of infinite and tender clemency. There
was no frown, no wrinkle on its face, not a ripple. And the run of
the slight swell was so smooth that it resembled the graceful
The Mirror of the Sea |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The United States Bill of Rights: V
No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime,
unless on a presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury, except in cases arising
in the land or naval forces, or in the Militia, when in actual service
in time of War or public danger; nor shall any person be subject for
the same offense to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb;
nor shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself,
nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law;
nor shall private property be taken for public use without just compensation.
VI
In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Child's Garden of Verses by Robert Louis Stevenson: All by himself and gathering brambles;
Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;
And here is the green for stringing the daisies!
Here is a cart runaway in the road
Lumping along with man and load;
And here is a mill, and there is a river:
Each a glimpse and gone forever!
XXXVIII
Winter-time
Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
A Child's Garden of Verses |
