| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie: so that my curiosity was aroused.
"What is it? You are not attending to what I say."
"It is true, my friend. I am much worried."
"Why?"
"Because Mademoiselle Cynthia does not take sugar in her coffee."
"What? You cannot be serious?"
"But I am most serious. Ah, there is something there that I do
not understand. My instinct was right."
"What instinct?"
"The instinct that led me to insist on examining those
coffee-cups. Chut! no more now!"
The Mysterious Affair at Styles |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Damaged Goods by Upton Sinclair: among the number of those unfortunate ones whom I pity with all
my heart, for whom the disease is without mercy; because during
that time you will be dangerous to your wife and to your
children. The children I have not yet mentioned to you."
Here the doctor's voice trembled slightly. He spoke with moving
eloquence. "Come, sir, you are an honest man; you are too young
for such things not to move you; you are not insensible to duty.
It is impossible that I shan't be able to find a way to your
heart, that I shan't be able to make you obey me. My emotion in
speaking to you proves that I appreciate your suffering, that I
suffer with you. It is in the name of my sincerity that I
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Ball at Sceaux by Honore de Balzac: who perished on the scaffold in 1793. He was the last representative
of the last and younger branch."
"But, papa, there are some very good families descended from bastards.
The history of France swarms with princes bearing the bar sinister on
their shields."
"Your ideas are much changed," said the old man, with a smile.
The following day was the last that the Fontaine family were to spend
at the Pavillon Planat. Emilie, greatly disturbed by her father's
warning, awaited with extreme impatience the hour at which young
Longueville was in the habit of coming, to wring some explanation from
him. She went out after dinner, and walked alone across the shrubbery
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