|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Turn of the Screw by Henry James:
in the ebbing actual, an extraordinarily sweet sadness.
On reaching the house I had never so much as looked for the boy;
I had simply gone straight to my room to change what I was wearing
and to take in, at a glance, much material testimony to Flora's rupture.
Her little belongings had all been removed. When later,
by the schoolroom fire, I was served with tea by the usual maid,
I indulged, on the article of my other pupil, in no inquiry whatever.
He had his freedom now--he might have it to the end! Well, he did
have it; and it consisted--in part at least--of his coming
in at about eight o'clock and sitting down with me in silence.
On the removal of the tea things I had blown out the candles
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Catherine de Medici by Honore de Balzac:
"The queen is very good," said Christophe, whose terrible sufferings
had developed an extraordinary lucidity in his mind, and who, after
enduring such unspeakable sufferings, was determined not to compromise
the results of his devotion. "But she might have spared me much agony
be telling my persecutors herself the secrets that I know nothing
about, instead of urging them on."
Hearing that reply, the doctor took his cap and cloak and left
Christophe, rightly judging that he could worm nothing out of a man of
that stamp. The jailer of Blois now ordered the poor lad to be carried
away on a stretcher by four men, who took him to the prison in the
town, where Christophe immediately fell into the deep sleep which,
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Father Goriot by Honore de Balzac:
turned to Eugene; there were tears in her eyes as she flung her
arms about his neck, and drew him towards her in a frenzy of
"And I owe this happiness to you--to THEE" (she whispered the
more intimate word in his ear); "but Therese is in my dressing-
room, let us be prudent.--This happiness--yes, for I may call it
so, when it comes to me through YOU--is surely more than a
triumph for self-love? No one has been willing to introduce me
into that set. Perhaps just now I may seem to you to be
frivolous, petty, shallow, like a Parisienne, but remember, my
friend, that I am ready to give up all for you; and that if I