|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Hidden Masterpiece by Honore de Balzac:
exactly thus upon her cheek. That is it, and--that is NOT IT. What
lacks? A mere nothing; but that mere nothing is ALL. You have given
the shadow of life, but you have not given its fulness, its being, its
--I know not what--soul, perhaps, which floats vaporously about the
tabernacle of flesh; in short, that flower of life which Raphael and
Titian culled. Start from the point you have now attained, and perhaps
you may yet paint a worthy picture; you grew weary too soon.
Mediocrity will extol your work; but the true artist smiles. O Mabuse!
O my master!" added this singular person, "you were a thief; you have
robbed us of your life, your knowledge, your art! But at least," he
resumed after a pause, "this picture is better than the paintings of
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Adam Bede by George Eliot:
"I didn't mean as I thought so," said the husband, apologetically,
"but I said it was what the jeweller might think, and so he
wouldn't be offering much money for 'em."
"Well," said the wife, "suppose you were to advance some money on
the things yourself, and then if she liked to redeem 'em when she
got home, she could. But if we heard nothing from her after two
months, we might do as we liked with 'em."
I will not say that in this accommodating proposition the landlady
had no regard whatever to the possible reward of her good nature
in the ultimate possession of the locket and ear-rings: indeed,
the effect they would have in that case on the mind of the
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Street of Seven Stars by Mary Roberts Rinehart:
"You'd be taking on others, of course. I'm not much and I'm as
poor--well, you know. It--it was the apartment that gave me the
"And the stove!" said Harmony; and suddenly burst into joyous
laughter. After a rather shocked instant Dr. Gates joined her. It
was real mirth with Harmony, the first laugh of days, that
curious laughter of women that is not far from tears.
Peter sat on the bed uncomfortably. He grinned sheepishly and
made a last feeble attempt to stick to his guns.
"I mean it. You know I'm not in love with you or you with me, of
course. But we are such a pair of waifs, and I thought we might