|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Cousin Betty by Honore de Balzac:
Lisbeth always went to market with Mathurine, and tried to teach her
what to buy. To know the real prices of things and command the
salesman's respect; to purchase unnecessary delicacies, such as fish,
only when they were cheap; to be well informed as to the price current
of groceries and provisions, so as to buy when prices are low in
anticipation of a rise,--all this housekeeping skill is in Paris
essential to domestic economy. As Mathurine got good wages and many
presents, she liked the house well enough to be glad to drive good
bargains. And by this time Lisbeth had made her quite a match for
herself, sufficiently experienced and trustworthy to be sent to market
alone, unless Valerie was giving a dinner--which, in fact, was not
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Underground City by Jules Verne:
it in little explosions, before its buoyancy had collected
it in too great quantities in the heights of the galleries.
The monk, as we called him, with his face masked, his head muffled up,
all his body tightly wrapped in a thick felt cloak, crawled along
the ground. He could breathe down there, when the air was pure;
and with his right hand he waved above his head a blazing torch.
When the firedamp had accumulated in the air, so as to form
a detonating mixture, the explosion occurred without being fatal,
and, by often renewing this operation, catastrophes were prevented.
Sometimes the 'monk' was injured or killed in his work,
then another took his place. This was done in all mines until
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Howard Pyle's Book of Pirates by Howard Pyle:
playing a fiddle somewhere inside, and the shed was filled with a
crowd of grotesque dancing figures--men and women. Now and then
they called with loud voices as they danced, and the squeaking of
the fiddle sounded incessantly through the noise of outcries and
the stamp and shuffling of feet.
Captain Teach and the New York captain stood looking on. The New
York man had tilted himself against a post and stood there
holding one arm around it, supporting himself. He waved the other
hand foolishly in time to the music, now and then snapping his
thumb and finger.
The young woman who had just been married approached the two. She
Howard Pyle's Book of Pirates