| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Give Me Liberty Or Give Me Death by Patrick Henry: of the British ministry for the last ten years to justify those hopes with
which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House.
Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received?
Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves
to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our
petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and
darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and
reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that
force must be called in to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves,
sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation; the last arguments to
which kings resort. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from New Arabian Nights by Robert Louis Stevenson: "Do," she replied. "He is an abject creature, and might ruin all."
She kissed the tips of her fingers to him daintily; and the brother
withdrew by the boudoir and the back stair.
"Harry," said Lady Vandeleur, turning towards the secretary as soon
as they were alone, "I have a commission for you this morning. But
you shall take a cab; I cannot have my secretary freckled."
She spoke the last words with emphasis and a look of half-motherly
pride that caused great contentment to poor Harry; and he professed
himself charmed to find an opportunity of serving her.
"It is another of our great secrets," she went on archly, "and no
one must know of it but my secretary and me. Sir Thomas would make
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Dunwich Horror by H. P. Lovecraft: stone on May Eve and Hallowmass. Now that very stone formed the
centre of a vast space thrashed around by the mountainous horror,
whilst upon its slightly concave surface was a thick and foetid
deposit of the same tarry stickiness observed on the floor of
the ruined Whateley farmhouse when the horror escaped. Men looked
at one another and muttered. Then they looked down the hill. Apparently
the horror had descended by a route much the same as that of its
ascent. To speculate was futile. Reason, logic, and normal ideas
of motivation stood confounded. Only old Zebulon, who was not
with the group, could have done justice to the situation or suggested
a plausible explanation.
The Dunwich Horror |
