|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Scaramouche by Rafael Sabatini:
She was trembling with passion. She tugged the cord.
"You will descend this instant!" she told him fiercely. "That you
should dare to make a comparison between me and that... "
"And my wife-to-be," he interrupted, before she could speak the
infamous word. He opened the door for himself without waiting for
the footman, and leapt down. "My compliments," said he, furiously,
"to the assassin you are to marry." He slammed the door. "Drive
on," he bade the coachman.
The carriage rolled away up the Faubourg Gigan, leaving him standing
where he had alighted, quivering with rage. Gradually, as he walked
back to the inn, his anger cooled. Gradually, as he cooled, he
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Sentimental Journey by Laurence Sterne:
IS THY UNDERSTANDING TROUBLED?" - In a word, I felt benevolence for
her; and resolv'd some way or other to throw in my mite of
courtesy, - if not of service.
Such were my temptations; - and in this disposition to give way to
them, was I left alone with the lady with her hand in mine, and
with our faces both turned closer to the door of the Remise than
what was absolutely necessary.
THE REMISE DOOR. CALAIS.
THIS certainly, fair lady, said I, raising her hand up little
lightly as I began, must be one of Fortune's whimsical doings; to
take two utter strangers by their hands, - of different sexes, and
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Bab:A Sub-Deb, Mary Roberts Rinehart by Mary Roberts Rinehart:
was safe, for as there was no Harold Valentine, he could not call
for the letter at the post office, and would therefore not be able
to cause me any trouble, under any circumstances. And, furthermore.
I knew that Hannah would not mail the letter anyhow, but would give
it to mother. So, even if there was a Harold Valentine, he would
never get it.
Comforted by these reflections, I drank my malted milk, ignorant of
the fact that Destiny, "which never swerves, nor yields to men the
helm"--Emerson, was stocking at my heels.
Between sips, as the expression goes, I addressed the envelope to
Harold Valentine, and gave it to Hannah. She went out the front