|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas:
Monte Cristo smiled with satisfaction; it appeared as if he
had not expected so much from M. Andrea Cavalcanti.
"Besides," continued the young man, "if there did appear
some defect in education, or offence against the established
forms of etiquette, I suppose it would be excused, in
consideration of the misfortunes which accompanied my birth,
and followed me through my youth."
"Well," said Monte Cristo in an indifferent tone, "you will
do as you please, count, for you are the master of your own
actions, and are the person most concerned in the matter,
but if I were you, I would not divulge a word of these
The Count of Monte Cristo
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe:
land, if the wind was fair, in a few days, so that I was come to
spend a few days with them till he should come, for he was
either come post, or in the West Chester coach, I knew not
which; but whichsoever it was, he would be sure to come to
that house to meet me.
My landlady was mighty glad to see me, and my landlord made
such a stir with me, that if I had been a princess I could not
have been better used, and here I might have been welcome
a month or two if I had thought fit.
But my business was of another nature. I was very uneasy
(though so well disguised that it was scarce possible to detect
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Tristram Shandy by Laurence Sterne:
modes, in order to shew my uncle Toby by what mechanism and mensurations in
the brain it came to pass, that the rapid succession of their ideas, and
the eternal scampering of the discourse from one thing to another, since
Dr. Slop had come into the room, had lengthened out so short a period to so
inconceivable an extent.--'I know not how it happens--cried my father,--but
it seems an age.'
--'Tis owing entirely, quoth my uncle Toby, to the succession of our ideas.
My father, who had an itch, in common with all philosophers, of reasoning
upon every thing which happened, and accounting for it too--proposed
infinite pleasure to himself in this, of the succession of ideas, and had
not the least apprehension of having it snatch'd out of his hands by my