|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Adam Bede by George Eliot:
irregularity, so as to bring the red brick into terms of friendly
companionship with the limestone ornaments surrounding the three
gables, the windows, and the door-place. But the windows are
patched with wooden panes, and the door, I think, is like the
gate--it is never opened. How it would groan and grate against
the stone fioor if it were! For it is a solid, heavy, handsome
door, and must once have been in the habit of shutting with a
sonorous bang behind a liveried lackey, who had just seen his
master and mistress off the grounds in a carriage and pair.
But at present one might fancy the house in the early stage of a
chancery suit, and that the fruit from that grand double row of
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte:
another pang of mortified pride; "but that did not make me ill," I
added; while Mr. Lloyd helped himself to a pinch of snuff.
As he was returning the box to his waistcoat pocket, a loud bell
rang for the servants' dinner; he knew what it was. "That's for
you, nurse," said he; "you can go down; I'll give Miss Jane a
lecture till you come back."
Bessie would rather have stayed, but she was obliged to go, because
punctuality at meals was rigidly enforced at Gateshead Hall.
"The fall did not make you ill; what did, then?" pursued Mr. Lloyd
when Bessie was gone.
"I was shut up in a room where there is a ghost till after dark."
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Duchesse de Langeais by Honore de Balzac:
memories of past joys--but to a love that was slighted.
"The Duchesse de la Valliere wept for lost happiness and
vanished power; but the Duchesse de Langeais will be happy that
she may weep and be a power for you still. Yes, you will regret
me. I see clearly that I was not of this world, and I thank you
for making it clear to me.
"Farewell; you will never touch MY axe. Yours was the
executioner's axe, mine is God's; yours kills, mine saves. Your
love was but mortal, it could not endure disdain or ridicule;
mine can endure all things without growing weaker, it will last
eternally. Ah! I feel a sombre joy in crushing you that believe