|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Selected Writings of Guy De Maupassant by Guy De Maupassant:
enormous billow of snow. When they opened the door, Sam, the
great curly dog, began to romp round them.
"Come, my boy," old Gaspard said, "we have no women now, so we
must get our own dinner ready. Go and peel the potatoes." And
they both sat down on wooden stools, and began to put the bread
into the soup.
The next morning seemed very long to Kunsi. Old Hari smoked and
smoked beside the hearth, while the young man looked out of the
window at the snow-covered mountain opposite the house. In the
afternoon he went out, and going over the previous day's ground
again, he looked for the traces of the mule that had carried the
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Tess of the d'Urbervilles, A Pure Woman by Thomas Hardy:
one for him--remained on the table untasted. This was
what their AGAPE had come to. At tea, two or three
hours earlier, they had, in the freakishness of
affection, drunk from one cup.
The closing of the door behind him, gently as it had
been pulled to, roused Tess from her stupor. He was
gone; she could not stay. Hastily flinging her cloak
around her she opened the door and followed, putting
out the candles as if she were never coming back. The
rain was over and the night was now clear.
She was soon close at his heels, for Clare walked
Tess of the d'Urbervilles, A Pure Woman
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Middlemarch by George Eliot:
and these had been magnified by report. Fred felt that he made
a wretched figure as a fellow who bragged about expectations from
a queer old miser like Featherstone, and went to beg for certificates
at his bidding. But--those expectations! He really had them,
and he saw no agreeable alternative if he gave them up; besides,
he had lately made a debt which galled him extremely, and old
Featherstone had almost bargained to pay it off. The whole affair
was miserably small: his debts were small, even his expectations
were not anything so very magnificent. Fred had known men to whom he
would have been ashamed of confessing the smallness of his scrapes.
Such ruminations naturally produced a streak of misanthropic bitterness.