| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas: Villefort. "To the judge -- to the judge, madame!" It was
terrible to behold the frightful pallor of that woman, the
anguish of her look, the trembling of her whole frame. "Ah,
sir," she muttered, "ah, sir," and this was all.
"You do not answer, madame!" exclaimed the terrible
interrogator. Then he added, with a smile yet more terrible
than his anger, "It is true, then; you do not deny it!" She
moved forward. "And you cannot deny it!" added Villefort,
extending his hand toward her, as though to seize her in the
name of justice. "You have accomplished these different
crimes with impudent address, but which could only deceive
The Count of Monte Cristo |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Glimpses of the Moon by Edith Wharton: A-bo-mi-nable? Susy!"
"Yes ... with Nelson ... and Clarissa ... and your past
together ... and all the money you can possibly want ... and
that man! Abominable."
Ellie stood up trembling: she was not used to scenes, and they
disarranged her thoughts as much as her complexion.
"You're very cruel, Susy--so cruel and dreadful that I hardly
know how to answer you," she stammered. "But you simply don't
know what you're talking about. As if anybody ever had all the
money they wanted!" She wiped her dark-rimmed eyes with a
cautious handkerchief, glanced at herself in the mirror, and
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Astoria by Washington Irving: meeting, in a vigorous old age, the Nestor of hunters and
backwoodsmen; and died, full of sylvan honor and renown, in 1818,
in his ninety-second year.
The next morning early, as the party were yet encamped at the
mouth of a small stream, they were visited by another of these
heroes of the wilderness, one John Colter, who had accompanied
Lewis and Clarke in their memorable expedition. He had recently
made one of those vast internal voyages so characteristic of this
fearless class of men, and of the immense regions over which they
hold their lonely wanderings; having come from the head waters of
the Missouri to St. Louis in a small canoe. This distance of
|
