| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Water-Babies by Charles Kingsley: at them now, for he felt somehow that they were strange, and ugly,
and wrong, and horrible. And it all began to come back to him.
They were men; and they were fighting; savage, desperate, up-and-
down fighting, such as Tom had seen too many times before.
And he stopped his little ears, and longed to swim away; and was
very glad that he was a water-baby, and had nothing to do any more
with horrid dirty men, with foul clothes on their backs, and foul
words on their lips; but he dared not stir out of his hole: while
the rock shook over his head with the trampling and struggling of
the keepers and the poachers.
All of a sudden there was a tremendous splash, and a frightful
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from U. S. Project Trinity Report by Carl Maag and Steve Rohrer: TRINITY test area is based primarily on the results of the remote
gamma recorders situated in the test area and on results of the road
surveys conducted after the detonation (1).
Within about 1,400 meters of ground zero (except to the north),
radiation intensities between 0.2 and 1.3 R/h were detected during the
first few minutes after the detonation. These readings decreased to
less than 0.1 R/h within a few hours. At greater distances to the
east, south, and west, radiation levels above background were not
detected (1).
The cloud drifted to the northeast, and higher gamma readings due to
fallout were encountered in this direction. About five minutes after
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from An Old Maid by Honore de Balzac: leave Alencon! I want to suffer away from you."
"And I wish to be at your side," replied his mother, proudly. "Suffer
without your mother!--that poor mother who would be your servant if
necessary; who will efface herself rather than injure you; your
mother, who will never shame you. No, no, Athanase; we must not part."
Athanase clung to his mother with the ardor of a dying man who clings
to life.
"But I wish it, nevertheless. If not, you will lose me; this double
grief, yours and mine, is killing me. You would rather I lived than
died?"
Madame Granson looked at her son with a haggard eye.
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