|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Domestic Peace by Honore de Balzac:
dangerous beauty. She had, of course, no friend to encourage her to
maintain the place she first held in the front rank; then each of
those treacherous fair ones would have enjoined on the men of her
circle on no account to take out our poor friend, under pain of the
severest punishment. That, my dear fellow, is the way in which those
sweet faces, in appearance so tender and so artless, would have formed
a coalition against the stranger, and that without a word beyond the
question, 'Tell me, dear, do you know that little woman in blue?'--
Look here, Martial, if you care to run the gauntlet of more flattering
glances and inviting questions than you will ever again meet in the
whole of your life, just try to get through the triple rampart which
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Riders of the Purple Sage by Zane Grey:
I'm not worth it. I never deserved such friendship. Well, maybe
it's not too late. You must give me up. Mind, I haven't changed.
I am just the same as ever. I'll see Tull while I'm here, and
tell him to his face."
"Bern, it's too late," said Jane.
"I'll make him believe!" cried Venters, violently.
"You ask me to break our friendship?"
"Yes. If you don't, I shall."
Jane sighed. Another shadow had lengthened down the sage slope to
Riders of the Purple Sage
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Letters of Robert Louis Stevenson by Robert Louis Stevenson:
with miserable difficulty; and yet all the time I have been gaining
strength, as you see, which is highly encouraging. By the time I
am done with this cruise I shall have the material for a very
singular book of travels: names of strange stories and characters,
cannibals, pirates, ancient legends, old Polynesian poetry, - never
was so generous a farrago. I am going down now to get the story of
a shipwrecked family, who were fifteen months on an island with a
murderer: there is a specimen. The Pacific is a strange place;
the nineteenth century only exists there in spots: all round, it
is a no man's land of the ages, a stir-about of epochs and races,
barbarisms and civilisations, virtues and crimes.