| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Dawn O'Hara, The Girl Who Laughed by Edna Ferber: into the sticky mysteries of a new kind of cake.
Max says that for a poor working girl who
hasn't had time to cultivate the domestic graces, my
cakes are a distinct triumph. Sis sniffs at that, and
mutters something about cups of raisins and nuts and
citron hiding a multitude of batter sins. She never
allows the Spalpeens to eat my cakes, and on my baking
days they are usually sent from the table howling. Norah
declares, severely, that she is going to hide the Green
Cook Book. The Green Cook Book is a German one. Norah
bought it in deference to Max's love of German cookery.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Dust by Mr. And Mrs. Haldeman-Julius: her hair. Gradually a new series of impressions began to register
on Martin's brain.
One Sunday she came in fresh and ruddy from the drive home in the
cold, crisp air. Martin found it rather pleasant to watch her
brisk movements as she prepared the delayed meal. He observed,
with something of a mental start, that today, at least, she still
had more than a little of the old sumptuous, full-blown quality.
It reminded him, together with the deft way in which she hurried,
without haste, without flurry, of their first evening in the
shack, nearly seven years ago. How tense they both had been, how
afraid of each other, how she had irritated him! Well, he had
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Shakespeare's Sonnets by William Shakespeare: Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing,
That heavy Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him.
Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell
Of different flowers in odour and in hue,
Could make me any summer's story tell,
Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew:
Nor did I wonder at the lily's white,
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
Yet seem'd it winter still, and you away,
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