| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Beast in the Jungle by Henry James: sit, and behaviour had become for her, in the social sense, a false
account of herself. There was but one account of her that would
have been true all the while and that she could give straight to
nobody, least of all to John Marcher. Her whole attitude was a
virtual statement, but the perception of that only seemed called to
take its place for him as one of the many things necessarily
crowded out of his consciousness. If she had moreover, like
himself, to make sacrifices to their real truth, it was to be
granted that her compensation might have affected her as more
prompt and more natural. They had long periods, in this London
time, during which, when they were together, a stranger might have
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus by L. Frank Baum: merry natures; yet would the boy laugh when the panther growled, and
stroke the bear's glossy coat while the creature snarled and bared its
teeth menacingly. The growls and snarls were not for Claus, he well
knew, so what did they matter?
He could sing the songs of the bees, recite the poetry of the
wood-flowers and relate the history of every blinking owl in Burzee.
He helped the Ryls to feed their plants and the Knooks to keep order
among the animals. The little immortals regarded him as a privileged
person, being especially protected by Queen Zurline and her nymphs and
favored by the great Ak himself.
One day the Master Woodsman came back to the forest of Burzee. He had
 The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Recruit by Honore de Balzac: greenhouse; there I can hear what happens outside during the night."
She still floated between the fear of having lost her son and the hope
of his suddenly appearing.
The night was horribly silent. There was one dreadful moment for the
countess, when the battalion of recruits passed through the town, and
went to their several billets. Every step, every sound, was a hope,--
and a lost hope. After that the stillness continued. Towards morning
the countess was obliged to return to her room. Brigitte, who watched
her movements, was uneasy when she did not reappear, and entering the
room she found her dead.
"She must have heard that recruit walking about Monsieur Auguste's
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