| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Bucky O'Connor by William MacLeod Raine: I'd a-put his light for good and all. Friend, I reckon we'll
suppress these messages. Military necessity, you understand." And
with that he lightly tore up the yellow sheets and tossed them
away.
"The conductor will wire when he reaches Apache," the operator
suggested, not very boldly.
The outlaw rolled a cigarette deftly and borrowed a match. "He
most surely will. But Apache is seventy miles from here. That
gives us an extra hour and a half, and with us right now time is
a heap more valuable than money. You may tell Bucky O'Connor when
you see him that that extra hour and a half cinches our escape,
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Beauty and The Beast by Bayard Taylor: At that time, however, we all looked upon him as a proper
young Arcadian, and hoped that he would develop into a second Abel
Mallory.
"After our effects had been deposited on the stoop, and the
carriages had driven away, we proceeded to apportion the rooms, and
take possession. On the first floor there were three rooms, two of
which would serve us as dining and drawing rooms, leaving the third
for the Shelldrakes. As neither Eunice and Miss Ringtop, nor
Hollins and Abel showed any disposition to room together, I quietly
gave up to them the four rooms in the second story, and installed
myself in one of the attic chambers. Here I could hear the music
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Elixir of Life by Honore de Balzac: to consider how far there is a resemblance between a Don Juan and
fathers who marry their children to great expectations. Does
humanity, which, according to certain philosophers, is making
progress, look on the art of waiting for dead men's shoes as a
step in the right direction? To this art we owe several honorable
professions, which open up ways of living on death. There are
people who rely entirely on an expected demise; who brood over
it, crouching each morning upon a corpse, that serves again for
their pillow at night. To this class belong bishops' coadjutors,
cardinals' supernumeraries, tontiniers, and the like. Add to the
list many delicately scrupulous persons eager to buy landed
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