| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Profits of Religion by Upton Sinclair: abandoned to the secular court. Seven bishops arrayed him in
priestly garb and warned him to recant while yet there was time.
He turned to the crowd, and with broken voice declared that he
could not confess the errors which he never entertained, lest he
should lie to God, when the bishops interrupted him, crying that
they had waited long enough, for he was obstinate in his heresy.
He was degraded in the usual manner, stripped of his sacerdotal
vestments, his fingers scraped; but when the tonsure was to be
disposed of, an absurd quarrel arose among the bishops as to
whether the head should be shaved with a razor or the tonsure be
destroyed with scissors. Scissors won the day, and a cross was
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Twenty Years After by Alexandre Dumas: the window.
In spite of this recommendation, which, owing to the noise,
could scarcely have been heard, two or three musket shots
resounded, succeeded by a terrible discharge. The balls
might be heard peppering the facade of the Palais Royal, and
one of them, passing under D'Artagnan's arm, entered and
broke a mirror, in which Porthos was complacently admiring
himself.
"Alack! alack!" cried the cardinal, "a Venetian glass!"
"Oh, my lord," said D'Artagnan, quietly shutting the window,
"it is not worth while weeping yet, for probably an hour
Twenty Years After |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Voyage to Arcturus by David Lindsay: desires.
The third arm possessed a function of its own, of which hitherto he
had been ignorant. It was a developed magn. But the stream of love
which was communicated to it was no longer pure and noble - it was
boiling, passionate, and torturing. He gritted his teeth, and kept
quiet, but Oceaxe had not plotted the adventure to remain unconscious
of his feelings. She looked around, with a golden, triumphant smile.
"The ride will last some time, so hold on well!" Her voice was soft
like a flute, but rather malicious.
Maskull grinned, and said nothing. He dared not remove his arm.
The shrowk straddled on to its legs. It jerked itself forward, and
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