| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Maitre Cornelius by Honore de Balzac: adventure.
"Sire," replied the physician, "there is nothing supernatural in that.
Your silversmith has the faculty of walking in his sleep. This is the
third case I have seen of that singular malady. If you would give
yourself the amusement of watching him at such times, you would see
that old man stepping without danger at the very edge of the roof. I
noticed in the two other cases I have already observed, a curious
connection between the actions of that nocturnal existence and the
interests and occupations of their daily life."
"Ah! Maitre Coyctier, you are a wise man."
"I am your physician," replied the other, insolently.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Vision Splendid by William MacLeod Raine: He wanted me to let him put two other teams on the rolls in my
name. I wouldn't stand for it. That was six weeks ago. To-day he
lets me out."
Jeff began to see dimly the trail of the serpent graft. He lit his
pipe before he spoke.
"Don't quite get the idea, Pat. Why wouldn't you?"
"Because I'm on the level. I'll have no wan tellin' little Mike
his father is a dirty thief. . . .It's this way. The rolls were to
be padded, understand."
"I see. You were to draw pay for three teams when you've got only
one."
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Vicar of Tours by Honore de Balzac: their faded features. Mademoiselle de Sombreuil was neither wife nor
maid; she was and ever will be a living poem. Mademoiselle Salomon de
Villenoix belonged to the race of these heroic beings. Her devotion
was religiously sublime, inasmuch as it won her no glory after being,
for years, a daily agony. Beautiful and young, she loved and was
beloved; her lover lost his reason. For five years she gave herself,
with love's devotion, to the mere mechanical well-being of that
unhappy man, whose madness she so penetrated that she never believed
him mad. She was simple in manner, frank in speech, and her pallid
face was not lacking in strength and character, though its features
were regular. She never spoke of the events of her life. But at times
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