| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Dark Lady of the Sonnets by George Bernard Shaw: repeating itself without the slightest variation throughout all
eternity; so that he had lived and died and had his goitre before and
would live and die and have it again and again and again. He liked to
believe that nothing that happened to him was completely novel: he
was persuaded that he often had some recollection of its previous
occurrence in the last cycle. He hunted out allusions to this
favorite theory in his three favorite pessimists. He tried his hand
occasionally at deciphering ancient inscriptions, reading them as
people seem to read the stars, by discovering bears and bulls and
swords and goats where, as it seems to me, no sane human being can see
anything but stars higgledy-piggledy. Next to the translation of
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Market-Place by Harold Frederic: What I should have said was that if this had been mentioned
beforehand to me, I should have explained that it wasn't
possible to discuss that particular business."
"But--pardon me"--said Lord Chaldon, in a quiet, very gentle,
yet insistent voice, which seemed now to recall to its
listeners the fact that sovereigns and chancellors had
in their day had attentive ears for its tones--"pardon me,
but why should it not be possible?"
Thorpe frowned doubtfully, and shifted his position
in his chair. "What could I say, if it were discussed?"
he made vague retort. "I'm merely one of the Directors.
 The Market-Place |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from McTeague by Frank Norris: if all the vitality that should have lent them color had
been sucked up into the strands and coils of that wonderful
hair.
As their eyes met they waved their hands gayly to each
other; then McTeague heard Trina and her mother come up the
stairs and go into the bedroom of the photographer's suite,
where Trina was to dress.
No, no; surely there could be no longer any hesitation. He
knew that he loved her. What was the matter with him, that
he should have doubted it for an instant? The great
difficulty was that she was too good, too adorable, too
 McTeague |