|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Domestic Peace by Honore de Balzac:
present scattered through the rooms.
At about eleven o'clock, just as the dancers were returning to their
seats, the company had observed the entrance of the handsomest woman
in Paris, the queen of fashion, the only person wanting to the
brilliant assembly. She made it a rule never to appear till the moment
when a party had reached that pitch of excited movement which does not
allow the women to preserve much longer the freshness of their faces
or of their dress. This brief hour is, as it were, the springtime of a
ball. An hour after, when pleasure falls flat and fatigue is
encroaching, everything is spoilt. Madame de Vaudremont never
committed the blunder of remaining at a party to be seen with drooping
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Old Indian Legends by Zitkala-Sa:
Iktomi trudged along with his burden, smacking his hungry lips
together. He blinked his eyes hard to keep out the salty
perspiration streaming down his face.
All the while the coyote on his back lay gazing into the sky
with wide open eyes. His long white teeth fairly gleamed as he
smiled and smiled.
"To ride on one's own feet is tiresome, but to be carried like
a warrior from a brave fight is great fun!" said the coyote in his
heart. He had never been borne on any one's back before and the
new experience delighted him. He lay there lazily on Iktomi's
shoulders, now and then blinking blue winks. Did you never see a
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Early Short Fiction of Edith Wharton by Edith Wharton:
read a man's mind any better than that!
Granice saw huge comic opportunities in the type.
But as he walked away, his fears dispelled, the sense of
listlessness returned on him. For the first time since his
avowal to Peter Ascham he found himself without an occupation,
and understood that he had been carried through the past weeks
only by the necessity of constant action. Now his life had once
more become a stagnant backwater, and as he stood on the street
corner watching the tides of traffic sweep by, he asked himself
despairingly how much longer he could endure to float about in
the sluggish circle of his consciousness.