|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Vision Splendid by William MacLeod Raine:
was leaning back in an easychair and across its arm her wrist
hung. Between the fingers, polished like old ivory to the tapering
pink nails, was a lighted cigarette.
"Why shouldn't I be--pleasant to him? I like him." Her color
deepened, but the eyes of the girl did not give way. There was in
them a little flare of defiance.
"Be pleasant to him if you like, and if it amuses you. But--"
Again Valencia stopped, but after a puff or two at her cigarette
she added presently: "Don't get too interested in him."
"I'm not likely to," Alice returned with a touch of scorn. "Can't
I like a man and admire him without wanting to marry him? I think
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Stories From the Old Attic by Robert Harris:
prospered. Hero that he was, he had mostly adjusted to the princess'
personality, reminding himself as occasion required (and occasion did
require), that not only had he acted for the good of the kingdom, but
he had wed great beauty and, eventually, personal power. He further
reminded himself that Jennifrella had made an adequate wife, even
after her face wrinkled and her tummy pudged, and that she had proved
to be a reasonable mother to his children. Whenever, in a moment of
inattention, he discovered himself pining to enjoy a witty remark or
some unguarded laughter, he quoted, hoping that it was true, the old
proverb that "we grow most not when something is given but when
something is taken away."
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Recruit by Honore de Balzac:
almost died of a sudden attack of gout in the stomach, but had been
relieved by a remedy which the famous doctor, Tronchin, had once
recommended to her,--namely, to apply the skin of a freshly-flayed
hare on the pit of the stomach, and to remain in bed without making
the slightest movement for two days. This tale had prodigious success,
and the doctor of Carentan, a royalist "in petto," increased its
effect by the manner in which he discussed the remedy.
Nevertheless, suspicions had taken too strong a root in the minds of
some obstinate persons, and a few philosophers, to be thus dispelled;
so that all Madame de Dey's usual visitors came eagerly and early that
evening to watch her countenance: some out of true friendship, but