|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Death of the Lion by Henry James:
to put our victims through on the gallop. It was later, in the
office, that the rude motions of the jig were set to music. I
fortified myself, however, as my training had taught me to do, by
the conviction that nothing could be more advantageous for my
article than to be written in the very atmosphere. I said nothing
to Mr. Paraday about it, but in the morning, after my remove from
the inn, while he was occupied in his study, as he had notified me
he should need to be, I committed to paper the main heads of my
impression. Then thinking to commend myself to Mr. Pinhorn by my
celerity, I walked out and posted my little packet before luncheon.
Once my paper was written I was free to stay on, and if it was
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Taras Bulba and Other Tales by Nikolai Vasilievich Gogol:
of food, amid the salt marshes of the Crimea; another had fallen in
captivity and been unable to survive the disgrace. Their former
Koschevoi was no longer living, nor any of his old companions, and the
grass was growing over those once alert with power. He felt as one who
had given a feast, a great noisy feast. All the dishes had been
smashed in pieces; not a drop of wine was left anywhere; the guests
and servants had all stolen valuable cups and platters; and he, like
the master of the house, stood sadly thinking that it would have been
no feast. In vain did they try to cheer Taras and to divert his mind;
in vain did the long-bearded, grey-haired guitar-players come by twos
and threes to glorify his Cossack deeds. He gazed grimly and
Taras Bulba and Other Tales
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from In a German Pension by Katherine Mansfield:
She very obviously followed the advice.
Said the Traveller: "I suppose you are frightened of an invasion, too, eh?
Oh, that's good. I've been reading all about your English play in a
newspaper. Did you see it?"
"Yes." I sat upright. "I assure you we are not afraid."
"Well, then, you ought to be," said the Herr Rat. "You have got no army at
all--a few little boys with their veins full of nicotine poisoning."
"Don't be afraid," Herr Hoffmann said. "We don't want England. If we did
we would have had her long ago. We really do not want you."
He waved his spoon airily, looking across at me as though I were a little