|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne:
to writing as events shall dictate.
That day, the 24th of January, 1868, at noon, the second officer came to take
the altitude of the sun. I mounted the platform, lit a cigar, and watched
the operation. It seemed to me that the man did not understand French;
for several times I made remarks in a loud voice, which must have drawn
from him some involuntary sign of attention, if he had understood them;
but he remained undisturbed and dumb.
As he was taking observations with the sextant, one of the
sailors of the Nautilus (the strong man who had accompanied
us on our first submarine excursion to the Island of Crespo)
came to clean the glasses of the lantern. I examined the fittings
20,000 Leagues Under the Sea
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Camille by Alexandre Dumas:
you of your father's arrival I trembled as if he had brought news
of some misfortune. My poor friend, I am the cause of all your
distress. You will be better off, perhaps, if you leave me and do
not quarrel with your father on my account. He knows that you are
sure to have a mistress, and he ought to be thankful that it is
I, since I love you and do not want more of you than your
position allows. Did you tell him how we had arranged our
"Yes; that is what annoyed him the most, for he saw how much we
really love one another."
"What are we to do, then?"
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Professor by Charlotte Bronte:
gossiping whispers by demanding it. But when a week passed and
the seat at the desk near the door still remained vacant, and
when no allusion was made to the circumstance by any individual
of the class--when, on the contrary, I found that all observed a
marked silence on the point--I determined, COUTE QUI COUTE, to
break the ice of this silly reserve. I selected Sylvie as my
informant, because from her I knew that I should at least get a
sensible answer, unaccompanied by wriggle, titter, or other
flourish of folly.
"Ou donc est Mdlle. Henri?" I said one day as I returned an
exercise-book I had been examining.