| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Tess of the d'Urbervilles, A Pure Woman by Thomas Hardy: obliged to expend in winter clothing, leaving only a
nominal sum for the whole inclement season at hand.
When the last pound had gone, a remark of Angel's that
whenever she required further resources she was to
apply to his father, remained to be considered.
But the more Tess thought of the step the more
reluctant was she to take it. The same delicacy,
pride, false shame, whatever it may be called, on
Clare's account, which had led her to hide from her own
parents the prolongation of the estrangement, hindered
her owning to his that she was in want after the fair
Tess of the d'Urbervilles, A Pure Woman |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Twenty Years After by Alexandre Dumas: wife, a father to his children. Chevalier, take my hand; it
is that of a friend who will love you to his last sigh."
Aramis stooped to kiss the king's hand, but Charles clasped
his and pressed it to his heart.
At this moment a man entered, without even knocking at the
door. Aramis tried to withdraw his hand, but the king still
held it. The man was one of those Puritans, half preacher
and half soldier, who swarmed around Cromwell.
"What do you want, sir?" said the king.
"I desire to know if the confession of Charles Stuart is at
an end?" said the stranger.
Twenty Years After |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Call of the Wild by Jack London: things by chemically propelled leaden pellets, the blood lust, the
joy to kill--all this was Buck's, only it was infinitely more
intimate. He was ranging at the head of the pack, running the
wild thing down, the living meat, to kill with his own teeth and
wash his muzzle to the eyes in warm blood.
There is an ecstasy that marks the summit of life, and beyond
which life cannot rise. And such is the paradox of living, this
ecstasy comes when one is most alive, and it comes as a complete
forgetfulness that one is alive. This ecstasy, this forgetfulness
of living, comes to the artist, caught up and out of himself in a
sheet of flame; it comes to the soldier, war-mad on a stricken
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