| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Danny's Own Story by Don Marquis: and he wanted it so bad he was ready and
willing to take up with most any wild scheme
to make it.
They was something about him now that didn't
fit in much with the Doctor Kirby I had knowed.
It seemed like he had spells when he saw himself
how he had changed. He wasn't gay and joking
all the time like he had been before, neither. I
guess the doctor was getting along toward fifty
years old. I suppose he thought if he was ever
going to get anything out of his gift of the gab he
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Herbert West: Reanimator by H. P. Lovecraft: cell intact and capable of receiving again the impulse toward
that mode of motion called life. There was hope that this second
and artificial life might be made perpetual by repetitions of
the injection, but we had learned that an ordinary natural life
would not respond to the action. To establish the artificial motion,
natural life must be extinct -- the specimens must be very fresh,
but genuinely dead.
The awesome quest had begun when West and
I were students at the Miskatonic University Medical School in
Arkham, vividly conscious for the first time of the thoroughly
mechanical nature of life. That was seven years before, but West
 Herbert West: Reanimator |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Marie by H. Rider Haggard: that man in the story and his evil genius who dragged him down to hell.
Prompted by some impulse, I threw my arms round Marie and embraced her,
saying:
"At least we have been very happy for a while."
"What do you mean, Allan?" she asked doubtfully.
"Only that I think our good hours are done with for the present."
"Perhaps," she answered slowly; "but at least they have been very good
hours, and if I should die to-day I am glad to have lived to win them."
Then the cavalcade of Boers came up.
Hernan Pereira, his senses sharpened perhaps by the instincts of hate
and jealousy, was the first to recognise me.
 Marie |