|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Emma by Jane Austen:
and a very proper, handsome letter it was. She shewed it to me.
I thought it very well done of him indeed. Whether it was his own idea
you know, one cannot tell. He is but young, and his uncle, perhaps--"
"My dear papa, he is three-and-twenty. You forget how time passes."
"Three-and-twenty!--is he indeed?--Well, I could not have thought it--
and he was but two years old when he lost his poor mother! Well,
time does fly indeed!--and my memory is very bad. However, it was
an exceeding good, pretty letter, and gave Mr. and Mrs. Weston
a great deal of pleasure. I remember it was written from Weymouth,
and dated Sept. 28th--and began, `My dear Madam,' but I forget
how it went on; and it was signed `F. C. Weston Churchill.'--
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Treatise on Parents and Children by George Bernard Shaw:
that the fact that we can become accustomed to anything, however
disgusting at first, makes it necessary for us to examine carefully
everything we have become accustomed to? Before motor cars became
common, necessity had accustomed us to a foulness in our streets which
would have horrified us had the street been our drawing-room carpet.
Before long we shall be as particular about our streets as we now are
about our carpets; and their condition in the nineteenth century will
become as forgotten and incredible as the condition of the corridors
of palaces and the courts of castles was as late as the eighteenth
century. This foulness, we can plead, was imposed on us as a
necessity by the use of horses and of huge retinues; but flogging has
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Dawn O'Hara, The Girl Who Laughed by Edna Ferber:
shoulders heaved into the room, disclosing a stout,
starched gingham body.
"Ich bin Frau Knapf," announced the beaming vision.
Now up to this time Frau Knapf had maintained a Mrs.
Harris-like mysteriousness. I had heard rumors of her,
and I had partaken of certain crispy dishes of German
extraction, reported to have come from her deft hands,
but I had not even caught a glimpse of her skirts
whisking around a corner.
Therefore: "Frau Knapf!" I repeated. "Nonsense!
There ain't no sich person--that is, I'm glad to see you.