| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Lair of the White Worm by Bram Stoker: into bed, taking care that the room was well lighted both by
sunshine and lamps. The only obstruction was from a silk curtain,
drawn across the window to keep out the glare. He sat beside her,
holding her hand, well knowing that the comfort of his presence was
the best restorative for her. He stayed with her till sleep had
overmastered her wearied body. Then he went softly away. He found
his uncle and Sir Nathaniel in the study, having an early cup of
tea, amplified to the dimensions of a possible breakfast. Adam
explained that he had not told his wife that he was going over the
horrible places again, lest it should frighten her, for the rest and
sleep in ignorance would help her and make a gap of peacefulness
Lair of the White Worm |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Jungle by Upton Sinclair: shouting the tidings, and within half an hour the whole of
Packingtown was on strike again, and beside itself with fury.
There was quite a different tone in Packingtown after this--the
place was a seething caldron of passion, and the "scab" who
ventured into it fared badly. There were one or two of these
incidents each day, the newspapers detailing them, and always
blaming them upon the unions. Yet ten years before, when there
were no unions in Packingtown, there was a strike, and national
troops had to be called, and there were pitched battles fought at
night, by the light of blazing freight trains. Packingtown was
always a center of violence; in "Whisky Point," where there were
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Purse by Honore de Balzac: "Yes, one more to mark," said he.
"Shall I come and advise you?" said Adelaide.
"No, no. Stay where I can see you. By Gad, it would be losing too
much not to have you to look at!"
At last the game was over. The gentleman pulled out his purse,
and, throwing two louis d'or on the table, not without temper--
"Forty francs," he exclaimed, "the exact sum.--Deuce take it! It
is eleven o'clock."
"It is eleven o'clock," repeated the silent figure, looking at
the painter.
The young man, hearing these words rather more distinctly than
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