| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Where There's A Will by Mary Roberts Rinehart: and she's got to stay with him. And you needn't worry about what
to call Oskar. He's not to know we're here."
I was worried on my way back to the spring-house--not that the
prince would make much difference, as far as I could see things
being about as bad as they could be. But some of the people were
talking of leaving, and since we had to have a prince it seemed a
pity he wasn't coming with all his retinue and titles. It would
have been a good ten thousand dollars' worth of advertising for
the place, and goodness knows we needed it.
When I got back to the spring-house Miss Patty and Mr. Pierce
were still there. He was in front of the fire, with his back to
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Soul of a Bishop by H. G. Wells: exactly then do I become? Do I lose my priestly function because
I discover how great God is? But what am I to do?"
He opened a new layer of his thoughts to her.
"There is a saying," he remarked, "once a priest, always a
priest. I cannot imagine myself as other than what I am."
"But o'thodox no maw," she said.
"Orthodox--self-satisfied, no longer. A priest who seeks, an
exploring priest."
"In a Chu'ch of P'og'ess and B'othe'hood," she carried him on.
"At any rate, in a progressive and learning church."
She flashed and glowed assent.
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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: these ten years at Paris. From the way in which his family claimed
salaries under every department, it might be compared with the House
of Austria, which, by intermarriage, threatens to pervade Europe. The
old Vendeen was not to be discouraged in bringing forward suitors, so
much had he his daughter's happiness at heart, but nothing could be
more absurd than the way in which the impertinent young thing
pronounced her verdicts and judged the merits of her adorers. It might
have been supposed that, like a princess in the Arabian Nights, Emilie
was rich enough and beautiful enough to choose from among all the
princes in the world. Her objections were each more preposterous than
the last: one had too thick knees and was bow-legged, another was
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