|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Life of the Spider by J. Henri Fabre:
The spinnerets distribute the material with a wide longitudinal
swing, from pole to pole; and the hind-legs apply it in capricious
ribbons. When this is done, the work is finished. The Spider
moves away with slow strides, without giving a glance at the bag.
The rest does not interest her: time and the sun will see to it.
She felt her hour at hand and came down from her web. Near by, in
the rank grass, she wove the tabernacle of her offspring and, in so
doing, drained her resources. To resume her hunting-post, to
return to her web would be useless to her: she has not the
wherewithal to bind the prey. Besides, the fine appetite of former
days has gone. Withered and languid, she drags out her existence
The Life of the Spider
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The American by Henry James:
"Your cousin won't ask you. She is going to marry Mr. Newman."
"Oh, that's a very different thing!" laughed Lord Deepmere.
"You would have accepted HER, I suppose. That makes me hope
that after all you prefer me."
"Oh, when things are nice I never prefer one to the other,"
said the young Englishman. "I take them all."
"Ah, what a horror! I won't be taken in that way; I must be kept apart,"
cried Madame de Bellegarde. "Mr. Newman is much better; he knows
how to choose. Oh, he chooses as if he were threading a needle.
He prefers Madame de Cintre to any conceivable creature or thing."
"Well, you can't help my being her cousin," said Lord Deepmere to Newman,
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Message by Honore de Balzac:
myself a countenance, I got out a few sufficiently feeble
inquiries, asking whether the persons present were really M. le
Comte and Mme. la Comtesse de Montpersan. These imbecilities gave
me time to form my own conclusions at a glance, and, with a
perspicacity rare at that age, to analyze the husband and wife
whose solitude was about to be so rudely disturbed.
The husband seemed to be a specimen of a certain type of
nobleman, the fairest ornaments of the provinces of our day. He
wore big shoes with stout soles to them. I put the shoes first
advisedly, for they made an even deeper impression upon me than a
seedy black coat, a pair of threadbare trousers, a flabby cravat,