|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Bab:A Sub-Deb, Mary Roberts Rinehart by Mary Roberts Rinehart:
the bell! What shall we do with them?"
"You take them right down the back stairs," I said. "As if it was
an empty box. And put it outside with the waist papers. Quick."
She gathered the thing up, but of course mother had to come in just
then and they met in the doorway. She saw it all in one glance, and
she snatched the card out of my hand.
"From H----!" she read. "Take them out, Hannah, and throw them
away. No, don't do that. Put them on the Servant's table." Then,
when the door had closed, she turned to me. "Just one more
ridiculous Episode of this kind, Barbara," she said, "and you go
back to school--Xmas or no Xmas."
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Emma McChesney & Co. by Edna Ferber:
hadn't the decency to be ashamed of any deal he turned, no matter
how raw. And let me tell you, T. A.: If he dodged when he saw
you it wasn't because he was ashamed of having played us
low-down. He was contemplating playing lower-down. Of course, I
She picked up the receiver in answer to the bell. Then, sweetly,
her calm eyes smiling into Buck's puzzled ones:
"Hello! Is this Mr. Meyers' tailor? I'm to ask if you are sure
that the grade he selected is the proper weight for the tropics.
What? Oh, you say you assured him it was the weight of flannel
you always advise for South America. And you said they'd be
Emma McChesney & Co.
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Children of the Night by Edwin Arlington Robinson:
Till it seemed the sky and the land and the ocean
Closed at last in a mist all golden
Around us two. And we stood for a season
Like gods outflung from chaos, dreaming
That we were the king and the queen of the fire
That reddened the clouds of love that held us
Blind to the new world soon to be ours --
Ours to seize and sway. The passion
Of that great love was a nameless passion,
Bright as the blaze of the sun at noonday,
Wild as the flames of hell; but, mark you,