| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Twenty Years After by Alexandre Dumas: than ten thousand armed men; those who were at the front
hurled defiance at the impassive sentinels of the regiment
of guards posted around the Palais Royal, the gates of which
were closed behind them, a precaution which made their
situation precarious. Among these thousands moved, in bands
numbering from one hundred to two hundred, pale and haggard
men, clothed in rags, who bore a sort of standard on which
was inscribed these words: "Behold the misery of the
people!" Wherever these men passed, frenzied cries were
heard; and there were so many of these bands that the cries
were to be heard in all directions.
Twenty Years After |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Altar of the Dead by Henry James: accepted his words, he turned his eyes to her again to see in what
manner she accepted them. It was with rising tears and a rare
sweetness in the movement of putting out her hand to take his own.
Nothing more wonderful had ever appeared to him than, in that
little chamber of remembrance and homage, to see her convey with
such exquisite mildness that as from Acton Hague any injury was
credible. The clock ticked in the stillness - Hague had probably
given it to her - and while he let her hold his hand with a
tenderness that was almost an assumption of responsibility for his
old pain as well as his new, Stransom after a minute broke out:
"Good God, how he must have used YOU!"
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Pool in the Desert by Sara Jeanette Duncan: 'Once upon a time,' I said, 'I was allowed to have an eye.' The
wine, untasted all those years, went to my head. 'That's a vigorous
bit above,' I continued.
'Oh, well! It isn't really up to much, you know. It's Rosario's.
He photographs mostly, but he has a notion of colour.'
'Really?' said I, thinking with regard to my eye that the sun of
that atrocious country had put it out. 'I expect I've lost it,' I
said aloud.
'Your eye? Oh, you'll easily get a fresh one. Do you go home for
the exhibitions?'
'I did once,' I confessed. 'My first leave. A kind of paralysis
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