|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Edition of The Ambassadors by Henry James:
though so long and so oddly delayed--would serve as well as
another. She had assured Strether in fact after a pause that the
more she thought of it the more it did serve; and yet her
assurance hadn't so weighed with him as that before they parted he
hadn't ventured to challenge her sincerity. Didn't she believe the
attachment was virtuous?--he had made sure of her again with the
aid of that question. The tidings he brought her on this second
occasion were moreover such as would help him to make surer still.
She showed at first none the less as only amused. "You say there
are two? An attachment to them both then would, I suppose, almost
necessarily be innocent."
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Research Magnificent by H. G. Wells:
the utmost limit of that extended peace. Ahead beyond the mountain
capes was Montenegro and, further, Albania and Macedonia, lands of
lawlessness and confusion. Amanda and he had been warned of the
impossibility of decent travel beyond Cattaro and Cettinje but this
had but whetted her adventurousness and challenged his spirit. They
were going to see Albania for themselves.
The three months of honeymoon they had been spending together had
developed many remarkable divergences of their minds that had not
been in the least apparent to Benham before their marriage. Then
their common resolve to be as spirited as possible had obliterated
all minor considerations. But that was the limit of their
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Padre Ignacio by Owen Wister:
the father must surely know." He placed the melody in the right key--an
easy thing for him; and the Padre was delighted.
"Ah, my Felipe," he exclaimed, "what could you and I not do if we had a
better organ! Only a little better! See! above this row of keys would be
a second row, and many more stops. Then we would make such music as has
never yet been heard in California. But my people are so poor and so few!
And some day I shall have passed from them, and it will be too late."
"Perhaps," ventured Felipe, "the Americanos--"
"They care nothing for us, Felipe. They are not of our religion--or of
any religion, from what I can hear. Don't forget my Dixit Dominus."
The Padre retired once more to the sacristy, while the horse that brought