| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Tono Bungay by H. G. Wells: was beautifully unaware of our former contact. He was always
offering me winners; no doubt in a spirit of anticipatory
exchange for some really good thing in our more scientific and
certain method of getting something for nothing....
In spite of my preoccupation with my experiments, work, I did, I
find now that I come to ransack my impressions, see a great deal
of the great world during those eventful years; I had a near view
of the machinery by which an astounding Empire is run, rubbed
shoulders and exchanged experiences with bishops and statesmen,
political women and women who were not political, physicians and
soldiers, artists and authors, the directors of great journals,
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Misalliance by George Bernard Shaw: prizefighter's nose, or something solider than me. I dont care about
your fist; but if everybody here dislikes me-- _[he is checked by a
sob]._ Well, I dont care. _[Trying to recover himself]_ I'm sorry I
intruded: I didnt know. _[Breaking down again]_ Oh you beast! you
pig! Swine, swine, swine, swine, swine! Now!
JOHNNY. All right, my lad, all right. Sling your mud as hard as you
please: it wont stick to me. What I want to know is this. How is it
that your father, who I suppose is the strongest man England has
produced in our time--
BENTLEY. You got that out of your halfpenny paper. A lot you know
about him!
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from From London to Land's End by Daniel Defoe: all the way; and the road, which often lies very broad and branches
off insensibly, might easily cause a traveller to lose his way.
But there is a certain never-failing assistance upon all these
downs for telling a stranger his way, and that is the number of
shepherds feeding or keeping their vast flocks of sheep which are
everywhere in the way, and who with a very little pains a traveller
may always speak with. Nothing can be like it. The Arcadians'
plains, of which we read so much pastoral trumpery in the poets,
could be nothing to them.
This Shaftesbury is now a sorry town upon the top of a high hill,
which closes the plain or downs, and whence Nature presents you a
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