| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Twelve Stories and a Dream by H. G. Wells: been worried--it was a manifest taboo. Only once in the room did
I hear the slightest allusion to his experience in his presence,
and that was by a cross-grained farm hand who was losing to him.
Skelmersdale had run a break into double figures, which, by the Bignor
standards, was uncommonly good play. "Steady on!" said his adversary.
"None of your fairy flukes!"
Skelmersdale stared at him for a moment, cue in hand, then flung
it down and walked out of the room.
"Why can't you leave 'im alone?" said a respectable elder who had
been enjoying the game, and in the general murmur of disapproval
the grin of satisfied wit faded from the ploughboy's face.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Wyoming by William MacLeod Raine: out, old hoss," he told the foreman. "But mebbe y'u won't feel so
lonesome with these little toys to play with."
Meanwhile Denver, a young giant of seventy-six inches, held the
head of the stairs, with four stalwart plainsmen back of him. The
rush of many feet came up pell-mell, and he flung the leaders
back on those behind.
"Hold on there. This isn't a free-lunch counter. Don't you see
we're crowded up here already?"
"What's eating you ? Whyfor, can't we come?" growled one of the
foremost nursing an injured nose.
"I've just explained to you, son, that it's crowded. Folks are
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from An Episode Under the Terror by Honore de Balzac: to remove all snares far from his path, to deliver him from his
enemies, to grant him a long and peaceful life. And with this daily
renewed gratitude, as it may be called, there blended a feeling of
curiosity which grew more lively day by day. They talked over the
circumstances of his first sudden appearance, their conjectures were
endless; the stranger had conferred one more benefit upon them by
diverting their minds. Again, and again, they said, when he next came
to see them as he promised, to celebrate the sad anniversary of the
death of Louis XVI., he could not escape their friendship.
The night so impatiently awaited came at last. At midnight the old
wooden staircase echoed with the stranger's heavy footsteps. They had
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