| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Cousin Pons by Honore de Balzac: stairhead.
"My dear Mme. Cibot, your lodger is a dead man; not because of the
bile in the system, but because his vitality is low. Still, with great
care, your patient may pull through. Somebody ought to take him away
for a change--"
"How is he to go?" asked Mme. Cibot. "He has nothing to live upon but
his salary; his friend has just a little money from some great ladies,
very charitable ladies, in return for his services, it seems. They are
two children. I have looked after them for nine years."
"I spend my life watching people die, not of their disease, but of
another bad and incurable complaint--the want of money," said the
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin by Robert Louis Stevenson: that were cut down and stretched all across the road. We went
through a great many little streets, all strongly barricaded, and
sentinels of the people at the principal of them. The streets were
very unquiet, filled with armed men and women, for the troops had
followed the ex-King to Neuilly and left Paris in the power of the
people. We met the captain of the Third Legion of the National
Guard (who had principally protected the people), badly wounded by
a Municipal Guard, stretched on a litter. He was in possession of
his senses. He was surrounded by a troop of men crying "Our brave
captain - we have him yet - he's not dead! VIVE LA REFORME!" This
cry was responded to by all, and every one saluted him as he
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin by Robert Louis Stevenson: guns and one hand on their pistols, stalk untamed past a dozen
Turkish soldiers, who look sheepish and brutal in worn cloth jacket
and cotton trousers. A headless, wingless lion of St. Mark still
stands upon a gate, and has left the mark of his strong clutch. Of
ancient times when Crete was Crete, not a trace remains; save
perhaps in the full, well-cut nostril and firm tread of that
mountaineer, and I suspect that even his sires were Albanians, mere
outer barbarians.
'May 17.
I spent the day at the little station where the cable was landed,
which has apparently been first a Venetian monastery and then a
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