| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Letters of Two Brides by Honore de Balzac: I took the paper from Griffith's hands, saying:
"Let me see if I have copied it rightly."
For it was all in my writing. I handed him the paper, or, if you will,
the snare, and I watched him while he read as follows:
"He who is to win my heart, my dear, must be harsh and unbending with
men, but gentle with women. His eagle eye must have power to quell
with a single glance the least approach to ridicule. He will have a
pitying smile for those who would jeer at sacred things, above all, at
that poetry of the heart, without which life would be but a dreary
commonplace. I have the greatest scorn for those who would rob us of
the living fountain of religious beliefs, so rich in solace. His
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Beast in the Jungle by Henry James: principal group and in cases where they took such matters with the
last seriousness give themselves up to mysterious appreciations and
measurements. There were persons to be observed, singly or in
couples, bending toward objects in out-of-the-way corners with
their hands on their knees and their heads nodding quite as with
the emphasis of an excited sense of smell. When they were two they
either mingled their sounds of ecstasy or melted into silences of
even deeper import, so that there were aspects of the occasion that
gave it for Marcher much the air of the "look round," previous to a
sale highly advertised, that excites or quenches, as may be, the
dream of acquisition. The dream of acquisition at Weatherend would
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Elizabeth and her German Garden by Marie Annette Beauchamp: These despicable but irritating insects don't seem to have anything
to do but to sit in multitudes on the sand, waiting for any prey
Providence may send them; and as soon as the carriage appears
they rise up in a cloud, and rush to meet us, almost dragging
us out bodily, and never leave us until we drive away again.
The sudden view of the sea from the messy, pine-covered height
directly above it where we picnic; the wonderful stretch
of lonely shore with the forest to the water's edge;
the coloured sails in the blue distance; the freshness,
the brightness, the vastness--all is lost upon the picnickers,
and made worse than indifferent to them, by the perpetual
 Elizabeth and her German Garden |