|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Flower Fables by Louisa May Alcott:
and thoughts of you shall cheer us on; for without you we had been
worthless beings, and never known the joy that kindly actions bring.
Yes, dear Bud, we will gladly toil among the roots, that the fair
flowers may wear their gayest robes to welcome you.
Then deep in the earth the Fairies dwelt, and no frost or snow
could harm the blossoms they tended. Every little seed was laid
in the soft earth, watered, and watched. Tender roots were folded
in withered leaves, that no chilling drops might reach them; and
safely dreamed the flowers, till summer winds should call them forth;
while lighter grew each Fairy heart, as every gentle deed was
|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:
everything. The treaty being concluded, and signed by a kiss impressed
on Emilie's white brow, he led her into a corner of the room, drew her
on to his knee, held the card under the thumbs so as to hide it, and
then uncovered the letters one by one, spelling the name of
Longueville; but he firmly refused to show her anything more.
This incident added to the intensity of Mademoiselle de Fontaine's
secret sentiment, and during chief part of the night she evolved the
most brilliant pictures from the dreams with which she had fed her
hopes. At last, thanks to chance, to which she had so often appealed,
Emilie could now see something very unlike a chimera at the fountain-
head of the imaginary wealth with which she gilded her married life.
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Off on a Comet by Jules Verne:
"Here, sir!" was the prompt reply; and in an instant the orderly was upon
his feet, standing in a military attitude, one hand to his forehead,
the other closely pressed to his trouser-seam.
"Stay where you are! don't move an inch!" shouted Servadac; "I have
just thought of the end of my rondo." And in a voice of inspiration,
accompanying his words with dramatic gestures, Servadac began to declaim:
"Listen, lady, to my vows --
O, consent to be my spouse;
Constant ever I will be,
Constant . . . ."
No closing lines were uttered. All at once, with unutterable violence,