|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Street of Seven Stars by Mary Roberts Rinehart:
Marie before. "The boy ought to have a nurse, I think."
"He doesn't move without my hearing him."
"That's an argument for me. Do you want to get sick?"
Peter turned a white face toward McLean, a face in which
exasperation struggled with fatigue.
"Good Lord, boy," he rasped, "don't you suppose I'd have a nurse
if I could afford it?"
"Would you let me help? I'd like to do something. I'm a useless
cub in a sick-room, but I could do that. Who's the woman he liked
in the hospital?"
"Nurse Elisabet. I don't know, Mac. There's no reason why I
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Mistress Wilding by Rafael Sabatini:
the pleasure of killing Mr. Westmacott." And his smile fell now in
mockery upon the disillusioned lad.
Crushed by that bolt from the blue, Richard sat as if stunned, the
flush receding from his face until his very lips were livid. The shock
had sobered him, and, sobered, he realized in terror what he had done.
And yet even sober he was amazed to find that the staff upon which with
such security he had leaned should have proved rotten. True he had put
much strain upon it; but then he had counted that it would stand much
He would have spoken, but he lacked words, so stricken was he. And even
had he done so it is odds none would have heard him, for the late calm
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Lady Baltimore by Owen Wister:
is the immortality which these historic names have won." How could I tell
him that I thought so, too? Nor was I as sure of it then as he was. And
besides, this was a young man whose spirit was almost surely, in
suffering; ill fortune both material and of the heart, I seemed to
suspect, had made him wounded and bitter in these immediate days; and the
very suppression he was exercising hurt him the more deeply. So I
replied, honestly, as he had asked: "I hope you are mistaken."
"That's because you haven't been here long enough," he declared.
Over us, gently, from somewhere across the gardens and the walls, came a
noiseless water breeze, to which the roses moved and nodded among the
tombs. They gave him a fanciful thought. "Look at them! They belong to