|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Voyage Out by Virginia Woolf:
He began turning over the little sheets of note-paper which were
scattered on the table, conveying the congratulations of their friends.
"'--all possible wishes for all possible happiness,'" he read;
"correct, but not very vivid, are they?"
"They're sheer nonsense!" Rachel exclaimed. "Think of words
compared with sounds!" she continued. "Think of novels and plays
and histories--" Perched on the edge of the table, she stirred
the red and yellow volumes contemptuously. She seemed to herself
to be in a position where she could despise all human learning.
Terence looked at them too.
"God, Rachel, you do read trash!" he exclaimed. "And you're
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Sons of the Soil by Honore de Balzac:
"Monsieur le comte," said Sibilet, gently, "you are wrong."
"Wrong! I, wrong?"
"Yes, Monsieur le comte, take care, you will have trouble with that
rascal; he will sue you."
"What do I care for that? Tell the scoundrel to leave the place
instantly! See that he takes nothing of mine, and pay him his wages."
Four hours later the whole country-side was gossiping about this
scene. The general, they said, had assaulted the unfortunate
Courtecuisse, and refused to pay his wages and two thousand francs
besides, which he owed him. Extraordinary stories went the rounds, and
the master of Les Aigues was declared insane. The next day Brunet, who
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from In the Cage by Henry James:
where you are!"
"See here--see here!" he nevertheless pleaded.
"I won't give you up!" she cried once more--this time quite with
passion; on which she got away from him as fast as she could and
left him staring after her.
Mr. Mudge had lately been so occupied with their famous "plans"
that he had neglected for a while the question of her transfer; but
down at Bournemouth, which had found itself selected as the field
of their recreation by a process consisting, it seemed, exclusively
of innumerable pages of the neatest arithmetic in a very greasy but