|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Camille by Alexandre Dumas:
where Armand lived. There was a new porter; he knew as little
about it as I. I then asked in what cemetery Mlle. Gautier had
been buried. It was the Montmartre Cemetery. It was now the month
of April; the weather was fine, the graves were not likely to
look as sad and desolate as they do in winter; in short, it was
warm enough for the living to think a little of the dead, and pay
them a visit. I went to the cemetery, saying to myself: "One
glance at Marguerite's grave, and I shall know if Armand's sorrow
still exists, and perhaps I may find out what has become of him."
I entered the keeper's lodge, and asked him if on the 22nd of
February a woman named Marguerite Gautier had not been buried in
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald:
Her eyes flashed around her in a defiant way, rather like Tom's, and she
laughed with thrilling scorn. "Sophisticated--God, I'm sophisticated!"
The instant her voice broke off, ceasing to compel my attention,
my belief, I felt the basic insincerity of what she had said.
It made me uneasy, as though the whole evening had been a trick
of some sort to exact a contributory emotion from me. I waited,
and sure enough, in a moment she looked at me with an absolute smirk
on her lovely face, as if she had asserted her membership in a rather
distinguished secret society to which she and Tom belonged.
Inside, the crimson room bloomed with light.
Tom and Miss Baker sat at either end of the long couch and she read
The Great Gatsby
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson:
stone and heather-bush by mark of head. See, now," he said,
striking right and left, as if to make sure, "down there a burn
is running; and at the head of it there stands a bit of a small
hill with a stone cocked upon the top of that; and it's hard at
the foot of the hill, that the way runs by to Torosay; and the
way here, being for droves, is plainly trodden, and will show
grassy through the heather."
I had to own he was right in every feature, and told my wonder.
"Ha!" says he, "that's nothing. Would ye believe me now, that
before the Act came out, and when there were weepons in this
country, I could shoot? Ay, could I!" cries he, and then with a