|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Death of the Lion by Henry James:
to show how far he could make him go. Poor Paraday, in return, was
naturally to write something somewhere about the young artist. She
played her victims against each other with admirable ingenuity, and
her establishment was a huge machine in which the tiniest and the
biggest wheels went round to the same treadle. I had a scene with
her in which I tried to express that the function of such a man was
to exercise his genius - not to serve as a hoarding for pictorial
posters. The people I was perhaps angriest with were the editors
of magazines who had introduced what they called new features, so
aware were they that the newest feature of all would be to make him
grind their axes by contributing his views on vital topics and
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Summer by Edith Wharton:
felt herself so mysteriously drawn should have betrayed
her! That at the very moment when she had fled up the
hillside to think of him more deliciously he should
have been hastening home to denounce her short-comings!
She remembered how, in the darkness of her room, she
had covered her face to press his imagined kiss closer;
and her heart raged against him for the liberty he had
"Well, I'll go," she said suddenly. "I'll go right
"Go where?" She heard the startled note in Mr. Royall's
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Bab:A Sub-Deb, Mary Roberts Rinehart by Mary Roberts Rinehart:
father cuting the ends off cigars in a viscious maner. Mother was
NON EST, and had I not had my memories, it would have been a
I sat very still and waited until father softened, which he usualy
does, like ice cream, all at once and all over. I sat perfectly
still in a large chair, and except for an ocasional sneaze, was quiet.
Only once did my parent adress me in an hour, when he said:
"What the devil's making you sneaze so?"
"My noze, I think, sir," I said meekly.
"Humph!" he said. "It's rather a small noze to be making such a racket."
I was cut to the heart, dear Dairy. One of my dearest dreams has