|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Man in Lower Ten by Mary Roberts Rinehart:
a cold perspiration. What connection had Alison West with this
crime? Why had she stared so at the gun-metal cigarette case that
morning on the train? What had alarmed her so at the farm-house?
What had she taken back to the gate? Why did she wish she had not
escaped from the wreck? And last, in Heaven's name, how did a part
of her necklace become torn off and covered with blood?
Down-stairs McKnight was still at the telephone, and amusing himself
with Mrs. Klopton in the interval of waiting.
"Why did he come home in a gray suit, when he went away in a blue?"
he repeated. "Well, wrecks are queer things, Mrs. Klopton. The suit
may have turned gray with fright. Or perhaps wrecks do as queer
The Man in Lower Ten
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen:
had saved her from the necessity of a conscientious rejection,
by engaging her faith before he mentioned the subject;
and as he proceeded to give the particulars, and explain
the motives of his father's conduct, her feelings soon
hardened into even a triumphant delight. The general had
had nothing to accuse her of, nothing to lay to her charge,
but her being the involuntary, unconscious object
of a deception which his pride could not pardon,
and which a better pride would have been ashamed to own.
She was guilty only of being less rich than he had supposed
her to be. Under a mistaken persuasion of her possessions
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Agnes Grey by Anne Bronte:
It was with a strange feeling of desolation, mingled with a strong
sense of the novelty of my situation, and a joyless kind of
curiosity concerning what was yet unknown, that I awoke the next
morning; feeling like one whirled away by enchantment, and suddenly
dropped from the clouds into a remote and unknown land, widely and
completely isolated from all he had ever seen or known before; or
like a thistle-seed borne on the wind to some strange nook of
uncongenial soil, where it must lie long enough before it can take
root and germinate, extracting nourishment from what appears so
alien to its nature: if, indeed, it ever can. But this gives no
proper idea of my feelings at all; and no one that has not lived