|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Aspern Papers by Henry James:
as you like; come every day. They are all for you,"
I pursued, addressing Miss Tita and carrying off this
veracious statement by treating it as an innocent joke.
"I can't imagine why she doesn't come down," I added,
for Miss Bordereau's benefit.
"You must make her come; you must come up and fetch her,"
said the old woman, to my stupefaction. "That odd thing you
have made in the corner would be a capital place for her to sit."
The allusion to my arbor was irreverent; it confirmed the impression I
had already received that there was a flicker of impertinence in Miss
Bordereau's talk, a strange mocking lambency which must have been a part
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Country of the Pointed Firs by Sarah Orne Jewett:
added in a milder tone. "I'm goin' up country. No, I ain't
intendin' to go berryin'. I've been plottin' for it the past
fortnight and hopin' for a good day."
"Would you like to have me go too?" I asked frankly, but not
without a humble fear that I might have mistaken the purpose of
this latest plan.
"Oh certain, dear!" answered my friend affectionately. "Oh
no, I never thought o' any one else for comp'ny, if it's convenient
for you, long's poor mother ain't come. I ain't nothin' like so
handy with a conveyance as I be with a good bo't. Comes o' my
early bringing-up. I expect we've got to make that great high
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Jungle by Upton Sinclair:
burning up with fever, and his eyes were running sores; in the daytime
he was a thing uncanny and impish to behold, a plaster of pimples
and sweat, a great purple lump of misery.
Yet all this was not really as cruel as it sounds, for, sick as he was,
little Antanas was the least unfortunate member of that family.
He was quite able to bear his sufferings--it was as if he had all
these complaints to show what a prodigy of health he was. He was
the child of his parents' youth and joy; he grew up like the conjurer's
rosebush, and all the world was his oyster. In general, he toddled
around the kitchen all day with a lean and hungry look--the portion
of the family's allowance that fell to him was not enough, and he was