| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Pupil by Henry James: spoils his things. He could trace perfectly the degrees by which,
in proportion as her little son confined himself to his tutor for
society, Mrs. Moreen shrewdly forbore to renew his garments. She
did nothing that didn't show, neglected him because he escaped
notice, and then, as he illustrated this clever policy, discouraged
at home his public appearances. Her position was logical enough -
those members of her family who did show had to be showy.
During this period and several others Pemberton was quite aware of
how he and his comrade might strike people; wandering languidly
through the Jardin des Plantes as if they had nowhere to go,
sitting on the winter days in the galleries of the Louvre, so
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Garden Party by Katherine Mansfield: family who spoiled Harold, he reflected, it was everybody; he had only to
look and to smile, and down they went before him. So perhaps it wasn't to
be wondered at that he expected the office to carry on the tradition. H'm,
h'm! But it couldn't be done. No business--not even a successful,
established, big paying concern--could be played with. A man had either to
put his whole heart and soul into it, or it went all to pieces before his
eyes...
And then Charlotte and the girls were always at him to make the whole thing
over to Harold, to retire, and to spend his time enjoying himself.
Enjoying himself! Old Mr. Neave stopped dead under a group of ancient
cabbage palms outside the Government buildings! Enjoying himself! The
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Z. Marcas by Honore de Balzac: at the tip like a lion's; his brow, like a lion's, was strongly marked
with a deep median furrow, dividing two powerful bosses. His high,
hairy cheek-bones, all the more prominent because his cheeks were so
thin, his enormous mouth and hollow jaws, were accentuated by lines of
tawny shadows. This almost terrible countenance seemed illuminated by
two lamps--two eyes, black indeed, but infinitely sweet, calm and
deep, full of thought. If I may say so, those eyes had a humiliated
expression.
Marcas was afraid of looking directly at others, not for himself, but
for those on whom his fascinating gaze might rest; he had a power, and
he shunned using it; he would spare those he met, and he feared
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