The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from In Darkest England and The Way Out by General William Booth: direction from the rags on which she reposes.
"It broke under me in the night," she explains. A woman is sick and
wants Liz to say a prayer. We kneel on the filthy floor. Soon all my
faculties are absorbed in speculating which will arrive first, the
"Amen" or the "B flat" which is wending its way to wards me. This time
the bug does not get there, and I enjoy grinding him under the sole of
my Slum shoe when the prayer is ended.
In another room we find what looks like a corpse. It is a woman in an
opium stupor. Drunken men are brawling around her.
Returning to our tenement, Em and Liz meet us, and we return to our
experience. The minor details vary slightly, but the story is the same
![](http://images.amazon.com/images/P/0875851428.01.MZZZZZZZ.gif) In Darkest England and The Way Out |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Kidnapped Santa Claus by L. Frank Baum: repent of."
"So I understand," said Santa Claus. "Those who avoid evil need never
visit your cave."
"As a rule, that is true," replied the Daemon; "yet you, who have done
no evil, are about to visit my cave at once; for to prove that I sincerely
regret my share in your capture I am going to permit you to escape."
This speech greatly surprised the prisoner, until he reflected that it
was just what might be expected of the Daemon of Repentance. The
fellow at once busied himself untying the knots that bound Santa Claus
and unlocking the chains that fastened him to the wall. Then he
led the way through a long tunnel until they both emerged in the
![](http://images.amazon.com/images/P/0672503484.01.MZZZZZZZ.gif) A Kidnapped Santa Claus |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde: in my life, and I certainly have not the smallest intention of ever
having one in the future.
CECILY. [Surprised.] No brother at all?
JACK. [Cheerily.] None!
GWENDOLEN. [Severely.] Had you never a brother of any kind?
JACK. [Pleasantly.] Never. Not even of an kind.
GWENDOLEN. I am afraid it is quite clear, Cecily, that neither of
us is engaged to be married to any one.
CECILY. It is not a very pleasant position for a young girl
suddenly to find herself in. Is it?
GWENDOLEN. Let us go into the house. They will hardly venture to
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