| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle: guess what it was. It was my coil of hair.
"I took it up and examined it. It was of the same peculiar tint,
and the same thickness. But then the impossibility of the thing
obtruded itself upon me. How could my hair have been locked in
the drawer? With trembling hands I undid my trunk, turned out the
contents, and drew from the bonom my own hair. I laid the two
tresses together, and I assure you that they were identical. Was
it not extraordinary? Puzzle as I would, I could make nothing at
all of what it meant. I returned the strange hair to the drawer,
and I said nothing of the matter to the Rucastles as I felt that
I had put myself in the wrong by opening a drawer which they had
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Twenty Years After by Alexandre Dumas: good-day. They breakfasted in haste, and at six o'clock had
already gone ten miles.
The young count's conversation was most interesting to
Raoul, therefore he listened much, whilst the count talked
well and long. Brought up in Paris, where Raoul had been but
once; at the court, which Raoul had never seen; his follies
as page; two duels, which he had already found the means of
fighting, in spite of the edicts against them and, more
especially, in spite of his tutor's vigilance -- these
things excited the greatest curiosity in Raoul. Raoul had
only been at M. Scarron's house; he named to Guiche the
Twenty Years After |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Exiles by Honore de Balzac: to stand unmoved before a furious mob and to face the greatest
dangers. He seemed to move in a sphere apart, where he poised above
humanity. His gestures, no less than his look, were full of
irresistible power; his lean hands were those of a soldier; and if
your own eyes were forced to fall before his piercing gaze, you were
no less sure to tremble when by word or action he spoke to your soul.
He moved in silent majesty that made him seem a king without his
guard, a god without his rays.
His dress emphasized the ideas suggested by the peculiarities of his
mien and face. Soul, body, and garb were in harmony, and calculated to
impress the coldest imagination. He wore a sort of sleeveless gown of
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