|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Catherine de Medici by Honore de Balzac:
which stood in the middle of the room, the king, near to whom the
young queen was seated in an arm-chair, waited for his mother.
Robertet, the secretary, was mending pens. The two cardinals, the
grand-master, the chancellor, the keeper of the seals, and all the
rest of the council looked at the little king, wondering why he did
not give them the usual order to sit down.
The two Lorrain princes attributed the queen-mother's absence to some
trick of their niece. Incited presently by a significant glance, the
audacious cardinal said to his Majesty:--
"Is it the king's good pleasure to begin the council without waiting
for Madame la reine-mere?"
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Around the World in 80 Days by Jules Verne:
throwing down the ten of spades.
"Well, it pleases me to have it diamonds,"
replied Colonel Proctor, in an insolent tone.
He made a movement as if to seize the card which had just been played,
adding, "You don't understand anything about whist."
"Perhaps I do, as well as another," said Phileas Fogg, rising.
"You have only to try, son of John Bull," replied the colonel.
Aouda turned pale, and her blood ran cold. She seized Mr. Fogg's
arm and gently pulled him back. Passepartout was ready to pounce
upon the American, who was staring insolently at his opponent.
But Fix got up, and, going to Colonel Proctor said, "You forget
Around the World in 80 Days
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Lucile by Owen Meredith:
To your eyes, friend of mine, and to your eyes alone,
That now long-faded page of my life hath been shown
Which recorded my heart's birth, and death, as you know,
Many years since,--how many!
"A few months ago
I seem'd reading it backward, that page! Why explain
Whence or how? The old dream of my life rose again.
The old superstition! the idol of old!
It is over. The leaf trodden down in the mould
Is not to the forest more lost than to me
That emotion. I bury it here by the sea