|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from An Historical Mystery by Honore de Balzac:
rage. Laurence and the abbe (the two minds of their little world) had
talked the man over and drawn their conclusions. Gothard and Catherine
had set the breakfast-table near the fire and the abbe and his sister
were sharing the meal. Neither masters nor servants paid the slightest
attention to the two spies, who walked up and down the garden, the
courtyard or the lawn, returning every now and then to the salon.
At half-past two the lieutenant reappeared.
"I found the corporal," he said to Corentin, "lying in the road which
leads from the pavilion of Cinq-Cygne to the farm at Bellache. He has
no wound, only a bad contusion of the head, caused, apparently, by his
fall. He told me he had been lifted suddenly off his horse and flung
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Maitre Cornelius by Honore de Balzac:
robbing your silversmith Cornelius, and who is now in the hands of the
grand provost, is innocent of the robbery."
"How do you know that?" asked the king. Marie lowered her head and
"I need not ask if there is love in this business," said the king,
raising his daughter's head gently and stroking her chin. "If you
don't confess every morning, my daughter, you will go to hell."
"Cannot you oblige me without forcing me to tell my secret thoughts?"
"Where would be the pleasure?" cried the king, seeing only an
amusement in this affair.
"Ah! do you want your pleasure to cost me grief?"
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Child of Storm by H. Rider Haggard:
vlei, where they might meet the horn of a buffalo at any moment--they
fired the dry reeds in three or four places at once, and this, if you
please, with a strong wind blowing from them to us. In a minute or two
the farther side of the swamp was a sheet of crackling flame that gave
off clouds of dense white smoke. Then pandemonium began.
The sleeping buffalo leapt to their feet, and, after a few moments of
indecision, crashed towards us, the whole huge herd of them, snorting
and bellowing like mad things. Seeing what was about to happen, I
nipped behind a big boulder, while Scowl shinned up a mimosa with the
swiftness of a cat and, heedless of its thorns, sat himself in an
eagle's nest at the top. The Zulus with the spears bolted to take cover
Child of Storm