|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Outlaw of Torn by Edgar Rice Burroughs:
he did not return her love nor could he imagine a love
strong enough to survive the knowledge that it was
possessed by the Devil of Torn.
Presently they reached the bottom of the stairway,
and Joan de Tany led him, gropingly, across what
seemed, from their echoing footsteps, a large chamber.
The air was chill and dank, smelling of mold, and no
ray of light penetrated this subterranean vault, and no
sound broke the stillness.
"This be the castle's crypt," whispered Joan; "and
they do say that strange happenings occur here in the
The Outlaw of Torn
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Ball at Sceaux by Honore de Balzac:
honor to be a doctor?" added the Breton nobleman. "Ah, my young
friend, such a man as you----"
"Monsieur le Comte, I respect every profession that has a useful
"Well, in that we agree. You respect those professions, I imagine, as
a young man respects a dowager."
Monsieur Longueville made his visit neither too long nor too short. He
left at the moment when he saw that he had pleased everybody, and that
each one's curiosity about him had been roused.
"He is a cunning rascal!" said the Count, coming into the drawing-room
after seeing him to the door.
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Tales of Unrest by Joseph Conrad:
so, with the idea of keeping it for a sort of memento on which I could
look later with tender eyes, I put it into my waistcoat pocket.
Afterwards it used to turn up in all sorts of places--at the bottom of
small drawers, among my studs in cardboard boxes--till at last it
found permanent rest in a large wooden bowl containing some loose
keys, bits of sealing wax, bits of string, small broken chains, a few
buttons, and similar minute wreckage that washes out of a man's life
into such receptacles. I would catch sight of it from time to time
with a distinct feeling of satisfaction till, one day, I perceived
with horror that there were two old pens in there. How the other pen
found its way into the bowl instead of the fireplace or wastepaper
Tales of Unrest