|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Voyage to Abyssinia by Father Lobo:
handful of it, cried out to me that I was poisoned; I had happily
not swallowed any of it, and throwing out what I had in my mouth, I
returned God thanks for this instance of his protection.
I crossed the Nile the first time in my journey to the kingdom of
Damote; my passage brought into my mind all that I had read either
in ancient or modern writers of this celebrated river; I recollected
the great expenses at which some Emperors had endeavoured to gratify
their curiosity of knowing the sources of this mighty stream, which
nothing but their little acquaintance with the Abyssins made so
difficult to be found. I passed the river within two days' journey
of its head, near a wide plain, which is entirely laid under water
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Scaramouche by Rafael Sabatini:
went on, her eyes upon the ground: "Tell me - the truth of that
event at the Feydau."
The request fetched a frown to his brow. He suspected at once the
thought that prompted it. Quite simply and briefly he gave her
his version of the affair.
She listened very attentively. When he had done she sighed; her
face was very thoughtful.
"That is much what I was told," she said. "But it was added that
M. de La Tour d'Azyr had gone to the theatre expressly for the
purpose of breaking finally with La Binet. Do you know if that
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Cousin Pons by Honore de Balzac:
our minds and do something or other with the money that is left."
"Pooh!" Fritz would retort, "just one more day, and to-morrow" . . .
In the lives of Prodigal Sons, /To-day/ is a prodigious coxcomb, but
/To-morrow/ is a very poltroon, taking fright at the big words of his
predecessor. /To-day/ is the truculent captain of old world comedy,
/To-morrow/ the clown of modern pantomime.
When the two friends had reached their last thousand-franc note, they
took places in the mail-coach, styled Royal, and departed for Paris,
where they installed themselves in the attics of the Hotel du Rhin, in
the Rue du Mail, the property of one Graff, formerly Gideon Brunner's