|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Catriona by Robert Louis Stevenson:
nothing but hard money, and the paper I now showed Andie was an
acknowledgment from the British Linen Company for a considerable sum.
He read it. "Troth, and ye're nane sae ill aff," said he.
"I thought that would maybe vary your opinions," said I.
"Hout!" said he. "It shows me ye can bribe; but I'm no to be bribit."
"We'll see about that yet a while," says I. "And first, I'll show you
that I know what I am talking. You have orders to detain me here till
after Thursday, 21st September."
"Ye're no a'thegether wrong either," says Andie. "I'm to let you gang,
bar orders contrair, on Saturday, the 23rd."
I could not but feel there was something extremely insidious in this
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The People That Time Forgot by Edgar Rice Burroughs:
awful waiting, for that fearsome beast to reach me and to strike.
Presently it was so close that I could hear its breathing, and
then it touched me and leaped quickly back as though it had
come upon me unexpectedly. For long moments no sound broke the
sepulchral silence of the cave. Then I heard a movement on the
part of the creature near me, and again it touched me, and I
felt something like a hairless hand pass over my face and down
until it touched the collar of my flannel shirt. And then,
subdued, but filled with pent emotion, a voice cried: "Tom!"
I think I nearly fainted, so great was the reaction. "Ajor!"
I managed to say. "Ajor, my girl, can it be you?"
The People That Time Forgot
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Christ in Flanders by Honore de Balzac:
became confused, and I stood upon the borderland between illusion and
reality, taken in the snare set for the eyes, and almost light-headed
by reason of the multitudinous changes of the shapes about me.
Imperceptibly a mist gathered about the carven stonework, and I only
beheld it through a haze of fine golden dust, like the motes that
hover in the bars of sunlight slanting through the air of a chamber.
Suddenly the stone lacework of the rose windows gleamed through this
vapor that had made all forms so shadowy. Every moulding, the edges of
every carving, the least detail of the sculpture was dipped in silver.
The sunlight kindled fires in the stained windows, their rich colors
sent out glowing sparks of light. The shafts began to tremble, the