The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Footnote to History by Robert Louis Stevenson: anchored in England on a Sunday, were joined EN ROUTE by the famous
Dr. Knappe, passed through "a narrow passage where they went very
slow and which was just like a river," and beheld with exhilarated
curiosity that Red Sea of which they had learned so much in their
Bibles. At last, "at the hour when the fires burn red," they came
to a place where was a German man-of-war. Laupepa was called, with
one of the boys, on deck, when he found a German officer awaiting
him, and a steam launch alongside, and was told he must now leave
his brother and go elsewhere. "I cannot go like this," he cried.
"You must let me see my brother and the other old men" - a term of
courtesy. Knappe, who seems always to have been good-natured,
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Duchesse de Langeais by Honore de Balzac: frenzy before which Mme de Langeais was forced to bend, she will
take one decisive resolution after another so swiftly that it is
impossible to give account of them. Thought after thought rises
and flits across her brain, as clouds are whirled by the wind
across the grey veil of mist that shuts out the sun. Thenceforth
the facts reveal all. And the facts are these.
The day after the review, Mme de Langeais sent her carriage and
liveried servants to wait at the Marquis de Montriveau's door
from eight o'clock in the morning till three in the afternoon.
Armand lived in the Rue de Tournon, a few steps away from the
Chamber of Peers, and that very day the House was sitting; but
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Elizabeth and her German Garden by Marie Annette Beauchamp: You go through a little pine wood, and, turning a corner,
are to come suddenly upon this bit of captured morning glory.
I want it to be blinding in its brightness after the dark,
cool path through the wood.
That is the idea. Depression seizes me when I reflect upon
the probable difference between the idea and its realisation.
I am ignorant, and the gardener is, I do believe, still more so;
for he was forcing some tulips, and they have all shrivelled up
and died, and he says he cannot imagine why. Besides, he is in love
with the cook, and is going to marry her after Christmas, and refuses
to enter into any of my plans with the enthusiasm they deserve,
 Elizabeth and her German Garden |