|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Misalliance by George Bernard Shaw:
Stay over the week-end. All my life Ive wanted to fly.
THE AVIATOR. _[taking off his goggles]_ Youre really more than kind.
BENTLEY. Why, its Joey Percival.
PERCIVAL. Hallo, Ben! That you?
TARLETON. What! The man with three fathers!
PERCIVAL. Oh! has Ben been talking about me?
TARLETON. Consider yourself as one of the family--if you will do me
the honor. And your friend too. Wheres your friend?
PERCIVAL. Oh, by the way! before he comes in: let me explain. I
dont know him.
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Finished by H. Rider Haggard:
about dawn I went out of the hut to see what was the matter.
There, standing a few yards away surrounded by some of Zikali's
people, I saw Lost and knew at once that it was an English
Airedale, for I have had several of the breed. It looked very
tired and frightened, and while I was wondering whence on earth
it could have come, I noticed that it had a silver-mounted collar
and remembered Nombe and her talk about you and a dog that
carried silver on it. From that moment, Allan, I was certain
that you were somewhere near, especially as the beast ran up to
me--it would take no notice of the Kaffirs--and kept looking
towards the mouth of the kloof, as though it wished me to follow
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Glimpses of the Moon by Edith Wharton:
the courage to return to them.
In her London solitude the thirst for independence grew fiercer.
Independence with ease, of course. Oh, her hateful useless love
of beauty ... the curse it had always been to her, the blessing
it might have been if only she had had the material means to
gratify and to express it! And instead, it only gave her a
morbid loathing of that hideous hotel bedroom drowned in yellow
rain-light, of the smell of soot and cabbage through the window,
the blistered wall-paper, the dusty wax bouquets under glass
globes, and the electric lighting so contrived that as you
turned on the feeble globe hanging from the middle of the