| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Horse's Tale by Mark Twain: never know how she came to be there; there is no way to account for
it. She was always watching for black and shiny and spirited
horses - watching, hoping, despairing, hoping again; always giving
chase and sounding her call, upon the meagrest chance of a
response, and breaking her heart over the disappointment; always
inquiring, always interested in sales-stables and horse
accumulations in general. How she got there must remain a mystery.
At the point which I had reached in a preceding paragraph of this
account, the situation was as follows: two horses lay dying; the
bull had scattered his persecutors for the moment, and stood
raging, panting, pawing the dust in clouds over his back, when the
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Historical Lecturers and Essays by Charles Kingsley: plate of four times his weight; and silver plate of seven times his
weight, when he should rise from his couch. So on the 6th of June
he rose, and was weighed in a fur coat and a robe of damask, and his
weight was three arrobas and one pound--seventy-six pounds in all.
On the 14th of June he went to visit his father at the episcopal
palace; then to all the churches and shrines in Alcala, and of
course to that of Fray Diego, whose body it is said he contemplated
for some time with edifying devotion. The next year saw Fray Diego
canonised as a saint, at the intercession of Philip and his son; and
thus Don Carlos re-entered the world, to be a terror and a torment
to all around him, and to die--not by Philip's cruelty, as his
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Prince of Bohemia by Honore de Balzac: " 'Tuesday is very slow of coming for my impatient mind! On
Tuesday I shall be with you for several hours. Ah! when it comes I
will try to think that the hours are months, that it will be so
always. I am living in hope of that morning now, as I shall live
upon the memory of it afterwards. Hope is memory that craves; and
recollection, memory sated. What a beautiful life within life
thought makes for us in this way!
" 'Sometimes I dream of inventing new ways of tenderness all my
own, a secret which no other woman shall guess. A cold sweat
breaks out over me at the thought that something may happen to
prevent this morning. Oh, I would break with /him/ for good, if
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