| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Red Inn by Honore de Balzac: me, 'YOU MEANT TO COMMIT THAT CRIME!' All was against me, even myself.
They asked me about my comrade, and I completely exonerated him. Then
they said to me: 'The crime must lie between you, your comrade, the
innkeeper, and his wife. This morning all the windows and doors were
found securely fastened.' At those words," continued the poor fellow,
"I had neither voice, nor strength, nor soul to answer. More sure of
my comrade than I could be of myself, I could not accuse him. I saw
that we were both thought equally guilty of the murder, and that I was
considered the most clumsy. I tried to explain the crime by
somnambulism, and so protect my friend; but there I rambled and
contradicted myself. No, I am lost. I read my condemnation in the eyes
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Where There's A Will by Mary Roberts Rinehart: listen, but Mr. Sam was still staring at something on the floor.
"I tell you, the spring is losing its virtue, and, like a woman,
without virtue, it is worthless."
"But interesting!" Mr. Sam said, and stooped down.
"Consider," went on Mr. Thoburn, standing and holding his glass
to the light, "how we are at the mercy of this little spring! A
convulsion in the bowels of the earth, and its health-giving
properties may be changed to the direst poison. How do we know,
you and I, some such change has not occurred overnight?
Unlikely as it is, it's a possibility that, sitting here calmly,
we may be sipping our death potion."
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Dawn O'Hara, The Girl Who Laughed by Edna Ferber: Had years passed over his head since I saw him last?
The face that tried to smile at us from the pillow was
strangely wizened and old. It was as though a withering
blight had touched it. Only the eyes were the same.
They glowed in the sunken face, beneath the shock of
black hair, with a startling luster and brilliancy.
I do not know what pain he suffered. I do not know
what magic medicine gave him the strength to smile at us,
dying as he was even then.
"Well, what do you know about little Paul Dombey?" he
piped in a high, thin voice. The shock of relief was too
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