| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Ball at Sceaux by Honore de Balzac: But when he perceived that the companions of the King's exile were in
higher favor than the brave men who had protested, sword in hand,
against the establishment of the republic, he may perhaps have hoped
to derive greater profit from this journey into a foreign land than
from active and dangerous service in the heart of his own country. Nor
was his courtier-like calculation one of these rash speculations which
promise splendid results on paper, and are ruinous in effect. He was--
to quote the wittiest and most successful of our diplomates--one of
the faithful five hundred who shared the exile of the Court at Ghent,
and one of the fifty thousand who returned with it. During the short
banishment of royalty, Monsieur de Fontaine was so happy as to be
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Dunwich Horror by H. P. Lovecraft: but talked much less than formerly. A settled taciturnity was
absorbing him, and for the first time people began to speak specifically
of the dawning look of evil in his goatish face. He would sometimes
mutter an unfamiliar jargon, and chant in bizarre rhythms which
chilled the listener with a sense of unexplainable terror. The
aversion displayed towards him by dogs had now become a matter
of wide remark, and he was obliged to carry a pistol in order
to traverse the countryside in safety. His occasional use of the
weapon did not enhance his popularity amongst the owners of canine
guardians.
The few callers at the house would often find Lavinia
The Dunwich Horror |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Altar of the Dead by Henry James: parlour she got up - "This isn't my room: let us go into mine."
They had only to cross the narrow hall, as he found, to pass quite
into another air. When she had closed the door of the second room,
as she called it, he felt at last in real possession of her. The
place had the flush of life - it was expressive; its dark red walls
were articulate with memories and relics. These were simple things
- photographs and water-colours, scraps of writing framed and
ghosts of flowers embalmed; but a moment sufficed to show him they
had a common meaning. It was here she had lived and worked, and
she had already told him she would make no change of scene. He
read the reference in the objects about her - the general one to
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