|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Bunner Sisters by Edith Wharton:
"It ain't any use sending for the doctor--and who's going to
"I am," answered the elder sister. "Here's your tea, and a
mite of toast. Don't that tempt you?"
Already, in the watches of the night, Ann Eliza had been
tormented by that same question--who was to pay the doctor?--and a
few days before she had temporarily silenced it by borrowing twenty
dollars of Miss Mellins. The transaction had cost her one of the
bitterest struggles of her life. She had never borrowed a penny of
any one before, and the possibility of having to do so had always
been classed in her mind among those shameful extremities to which
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Call of the Canyon by Zane Grey:
far up under the bluff she espied a man. He was stalking along and bending
down, stalking along and bending down. She recognized Glenn. He was planting
something in the yellow soil.
Curiously Carley watched him, and did not allow her mind to become
concerned with a somewhat painful swell of her heart. What a stride he had!
How vigorous he looked, and earnest! He was as intent upon this job as if
he had been a rustic. He might have been failing to do it well, but he most
certainly was doing it conscientiously. Once he had said to her that a man
should never be judged by the result of his labors, but by the nature of
his effort. A man might strive with all his heart and strength, yet fall.
Carley watched him striding along and bending down, absorbed in his task,
The Call of the Canyon
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Modeste Mignon by Honore de Balzac:
adventure of this kind is swept away like a harebell by a mountain
torrent, but in the more unoccupied life of the young secretary, this
charming girl, whom his imagination persistently connected with the
blonde beauty at the window, fastened upon his heart, and did as much
mischief in his regulated life as a fox in a poultry-yard. La Briere
allowed himself to be preoccupied by this mysterious correspondent;
and he answered her last letter with another, a pretentious and
carefully studied epistle, in which, however, passion begins to reveal
itself through pique.
Mademoiselle,--Is it quite loyal in you to enthrone yourself in
the heart of a poor poet with a latent intention of abandoning him