|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Personal Record by Joseph Conrad:
distraught indeed, but exhibiting, I am ready to swear, no signs
of a fine frenzy. I was composed enough to perceive after some
considerable time the match-box lying there on the mantelpiece
right under my nose. And all this was beautifully and safely
usual. Before I had thrown down the match my landlady's daughter
appeared with her calm, pale face and an inquisitive look, in the
doorway. Of late it was the landlady's daughter who answered my
bell. I mention this little fact with pride, because it proves
that during the thirty or forty days of my tenancy I had produced
a favourable impression. For a fortnight past I had been spared
the unattractive sight of the domestic slave. The girls in that
A Personal Record
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Middlemarch by George Eliot:
easily imagining outdoor causes of annoyance.
"There is the more need for you to stay," said Rosamond, playfully,
and in her lightest accent; "he will not speak to me all the evening."
"Yes, Rosamond, I shall," said Lydgate, in his strong baritone.
"I have some serious business to speak to you about."
No introduction of the business could have been less like that
which Lydgate had intended; but her indifferent manner had been
"There! you see," said Will. "I'm going to the meeting about
the Mechanics' Institute. Good-by;" and he went quickly out of the room.
Rosamond did not look at her husband, but presently rose and took
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Daughter of Eve by Honore de Balzac:
manager that she is ill.
But even these mechanical operations are nothing in comparison with
the intrigues to be carried on, the pains of wounded vanity to be
endured,--preferences shown by authors, parts taken away or given to
others, exactions of the male actors, spite of rivals, naggings of the
stage manager, struggles with journalists; all of which require
another twelve hours to the day. But even so far, nothing has been
said of the art of acting, the expression of passion, the practice of
positions and gesture, the minute care and watchfulness required on
the stage, where a thousand opera-glasses are ready to detect a flaw,
--labors which consumed the life and thought of Talma, Lekain, Baron,