| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Koran: not believers.
And when they are called to God and His Apostle to judge between
them, lo! a sect of them do turn aside. But had the right been on
their side they would have come to him submissively enough.
Is there a sickness in their hearts, or do they doubt, or do they
fear lest God and His Apostle should deal unfairly by them?- Nay, it
is they who are unjust.
The speech of the believers, when they are called to God and His
Apostle to judge between them, is only to say, 'We hear and we
obey;' and these it is who are the prosperous, for whoso obeys God and
His Apostle and dreads God and fears Him, these it is who are the
 The Koran |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Daughter of Eve by Honore de Balzac: colandered, some dewy, some plump and satiny, as though Rubens had
prepared their flesh; in short, all shades known to man in white. Here
were eyes sparkling like onyx or turquoise fringed with dark lashes;
faces of varied outline presenting the most graceful types of many
lands; foreheads noble and majestic, or softly rounded, as if thought
ruled, or flat, as if resistant will reigned there unconquered;
beautiful bosoms swelling, as George IV. admired them, or widely
parted after the fashion of the eighteenth century, or pressed
together, as Louis XV. required; some shown boldly, without veils,
others covered by those charming pleated chemisettes which Raffaelle
painted. The prettiest feet pointed for the dance, the slimmest waists
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Art of Writing by Robert Louis Stevenson: and I projected a joint volume of logic stories, for which
she wrote 'The Shadow on the Bed,' and I turned out 'Thrawn
Janet,' and a first draft of 'The Merry Men.' I love my
native air, but it does not love me; and the end of this
delightful period was a cold, a fly-blister, and a migration
by Strathairdle and Glenshee to the Castleton of Braemar.
There it blew a good deal and rained in a proportion; my
native air was more unkind than man's ingratitude, and I must
consent to pass a good deal of my time between four walls in
a house lugubriously known as the Late Miss McGregor's
Cottage. And now admire the finger of predestination. There
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