| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from La Grenadiere by Honore de Balzac: slenderness; her gloved hands, too, were shapely. There were flitting
patches of deep red in a pale face, which must have been fresh and
softly colored once. Premature wrinkles had withered the delicately
modeled forehead beneath the coronet of soft, well-set chestnut hair,
invariably wound about her head in two plaits, a girlish coiffure
which suited the melancholy face. There was a deceptive look of calm
in the dark eyes, with the hollow, shadowy circles about them;
sometimes, when she was off her guard, their expression told of secret
anguish. The oval of her face was somewhat long; but happiness and
health had perhaps filled and perfected the outlines. A forced smile,
full of quiet sadness, hovered continually on her pale lips; but when
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from House of Mirth by Edith Wharton: "I am very sorry for you--I would help you willingly; but you
must have other friends, other advisers."
"I never had a friend like you," he answered simply. "And
besides--can't you see?--you're the only person"--his voice
dropped to a whisper--"the only person who knows."
Again she felt her colour change; again her heart rose in
precipitate throbs to meet what she felt was coming. He lifted
his eyes to her entreatingly. "You do see, don't you? You
understand? I'm desperate--I'm at the end of my tether. I
want to be free, and you can free me. I know you can. You don't
want to keep me bound fast in hell, do you? You can't want to
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Pocket Diary Found in the Snow by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner: the best time to get at the truth about a man.
The commissioner sat down at his desk and wrote out the necessary
credentials for the detective. A few moments later Muller was in
the street. He left the notebook with the commissioner. It was
snowing heavily, and an icy north wind was howling through the
streets. Muller turned up the collar of his coat and walked on
quickly. It was just striking a quarter to twelve when he reached
Cathedral Lane. As he walked slowly along the moonlit side of the
pavement, a man stepped out of the shadow to meet him. It was the
policeman who had been sent to watch the house. Like Muller, he
wore plain clothes.
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