|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Message by Honore de Balzac:
One of us had traveled six hundred miles to see his mistress for
an hour. The other, at the risk of being shot for a wolf, had
prowled about her park to meet her one night. Out came all our
follies in fact. If it is pleasant to remember past dangers, is
it not at least as pleasant to recall past delights? We live
through the joy a second time. We told each other everything, our
perils, our great joys, our little pleasures, and even the humors
of the situation. My friend's countess had lighted a cigar for
him; mine made chocolate for me, and wrote to me every day when
we did not meet; his lady had come to spend three days with him
at the risk of ruin to her reputation; mine had done even better,
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie:
story is absolutely untrue. I was absent from the house the
"Have you anyone who can testify to that?"
"You have my word," said Inglethorp haughtily.
The Coroner did not trouble to reply.
"There are two witnesses who will swear to having heard your
disagreement with Mrs. Inglethorp."
"Those witnesses were mistaken."
I was puzzled. The man spoke with such quiet assurance that I
was staggered. I looked at Poirot. There was an expression of
exultation on his face which I could not understand. Was he at
The Mysterious Affair at Styles
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Arrow of Gold by Joseph Conrad:
warmth and perfume, with filmy touches of the hair on my face. She
penetrated me, my head was full of her . . . And his head, too, I
thought suddenly with a side glance at my companion. He walked
quietly with hunched-up shoulders carrying his little hand-bag and
he looked the most commonplace figure imaginable.
Yes. There was between us a most horrible fellowship; the
association of his crazy torture with the sublime suffering of my
passion. We hadn't been a quarter of an hour together when that
woman had surged up fatally between us; between this miserable
wretch and myself. We were haunted by the same image. But I was
sane! I was sane! Not because I was certain that the fellow must
The Arrow of Gold