|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories by Alice Dunbar:
"Hit will rain to-morrow, sho'. I mus' git in my t'ings."
Ma'am Mouton's remark must have been addressed to herself or to
the lean dog, for no one else was visible. She moved briskly
about the yard, taking things from the line, when Louisette's
voice called cheerily:
"Ah, Ma'am Mouton, can I help?"
Louisette was petite and plump and black-haired. Louisette's
eyes danced, and her lips were red and tempting. Ma'am Mouton's
face relaxed as the small brown hands relieved hers of their
"Sylves', has he come yet?" asked the red mouth.
The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Aspern Papers by Henry James:
as much as if she had not already given me a specimen of it.
Juliana's desire to make our acquaintance lucrative had been,
as I have sufficiently indicated, a false note in my image
of the woman who had inspired a great poet with immortal lines;
but I may say here definitely that I recognized after all
that it behooved me to make a large allowance for her.
It was I who had kindled the unholy flame; it was I who had
put into her head that she had the means of making money.
She appeared never to have thought of that; she had been
living wastefully for years, in a house five times too
big for her, on a footing that I could explain only by
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Secret Sharer by Joseph Conrad:
"No, on the passage. Weeks ago. Thirty-nine south.
When I say a man--"
"Fit of temper," I suggested, confidently.
The shadowy, dark head, like mine, seemed to nod imperceptibly
above the ghostly gray of my sleeping suit. It was, in the night,
as though I had been faced by my own reflection in the depths
of a somber and immense mirror.
"A pretty thing to have to own up to for a Conway boy,"
murmured my double, distinctly.
"You're a Conway boy?"
"I am," he said, as if startled. Then, slowly . . . "Perhaps you too--"
The Secret Sharer