| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Great God Pan by Arthur Machen: was wondering at the strangeness of it all, when suddenly, in
place of the hum and murmur of the summer, an infinite silence
seemed to fall on all things, and the wood was hushed, and for a
moment in time he stood face to face there with a presence, that
was neither man nor beast, neither the living nor the dead, but
all things mingled, the form of all things but devoid of all
form. And in that moment, the sacrament of body and soul was
dissolved, and a voice seemed to cry "Let us go hence," and
then the darkness of darkness beyond the stars, the darkness of
everlasting.
When Clarke woke up with a start he saw Raymond pouring
 The Great God Pan |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad: and saving illusion that shone with an unearthly glow in the darkness,
in the triumphant darkness from which I could not have defended her--
from which I could not even defend myself.
"`What a loss to me--to us!'--she corrected herself with
beautiful generosity; then added in a murmur, `To the world.'
By the last gleams of twilight I could see the glitter of her eyes,
full of tears--of tears that would not fall.
"`I have been very happy--very fortunate--very proud,'
she went on. `Too fortunate. Too happy for a little while.
And now I am unhappy for--for life.'
"She stood up; her fair hair seemed to catch all the remaining light
 Heart of Darkness |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Howard Pyle's Book of Pirates by Howard Pyle: room with its stiff, leather-covered furniture, the brass-headed
tacks whereof sparkled like so many stars--a cleanliness that
bade you farewell in the spotless stretch of sand- sprinkled
hallway, the wooden floor of which was worn into knobs around the
nail heads by the countless scourings and scrubbings to which it
had been subjected and which left behind them an all-pervading
faint, fragrant odor of soap and warm water.
Eleazer Cooper and his wife were childless, but one inmate made
the great, silent, shady house bright with life. Lucinda
Fairbanks, a niece of Captain Cooper's by his only sister, was a
handsome, sprightly girl of eighteen or twenty, and a great
 Howard Pyle's Book of Pirates |