| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Scenes from a Courtesan's Life by Honore de Balzac: Delighted to announce to his "anchel" that she was to move from the
Rue Taitbout to the Rue Saint-Georges, where she was to have "ein
little palace" where her memories would no longer rise up in
antagonism to their happiness, the pavement felt elastic under his
feet; he walked like a young man in a young man's dream. As he turned
the corner of the Rue des Trois Freres, in the middle of his dream,
and of the road, the Baron beheld Europe coming towards him, looking
very much upset.
"Vere shall you go?" he asked.
"Well, monsieur, I was on my way to you. You were quite right
yesterday. I see now that poor madame had better have gone to prison
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Pathology of Lying, Etc. by William and Mary Healy: ourselves acquainted, he tells us he does not know what gets into
him, but he has run away from home no less than eleven times. He
works for a while, takes his wages and then stays at a hotel. He
says he has been arrested several times on this account. His
mother always telephones to the police about him and that is why
he is under detention now. He wishes he were at home. The next
day we went into more of the details which had been liberally
sketched to the judge and other officials. We now learn that the
step-father is a professional thief and that stolen goods he has
taken are to be found in their home. He often leaves home and
perhaps takes his wife's wages--she has to work out--and just now
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Roads of Destiny by O. Henry: Tansey rounded the table, and flung himself, with superb nerve, upon
the Mexican. Just then a clangour began; the clocks of the city were
tolling the midnight hour. Tansey clutched at Torres, and, for a
moment, felt in his grasp the crunch of velvet and the cold facets of
the glittering gems. The next instant, the bedecked caballero turned
in his hands to a shrunken, leather-visaged, white-bearded, old, old,
screaming mummy, sandalled, ragged, and four hundred and three. The
Mexican woman was crawling to her feet, and laughing. She shook her
brown hand in the face of the whining /viejo/.
"Go, now," she cried, "and seek your senorita. It was I, Ramoncito,
who brought you to this. Within each moon you eat of the life-giving
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