| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from My Aunt Margaret's Mirror by Walter Scott: he turned his face suddenly, it was frightfully realized, and
they saw, in the gay bridegroom before them, Sir Philip Forester.
His wife uttered an imperfect exclamation, at the sound of which
the whole scene stirred and seemed to separate.
"I could compare it to nothing," said Lady Bothwell, while
recounting the wonderful tale, "but to the dispersion of the
reflection offered by a deep and calm pool, when a stone is
suddenly cast into it, and the shadows become dissipated and
broken." The master pressed both the ladies' hands severely, as
if to remind them of their promise, and of the danger which they
incurred. The exclamation died away on Lady Forester's tongue,
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Ebb-Tide by Stevenson & Osbourne: swung clear in front of him, like the moon out of clouds. He
had come to lure that man on board; he was failing, even if
it could be said that he had tried; he was sure to fail now,
and knew it, and knew it was better so. And what was to be
next?
With a groan he turned to follow his host, who was standing
with polite smile, and instantly and somewhat obsequiously led
the way in the now darkened colonnade of palms. There they
went in silence, the earth gave up richly of her perfume, the air
tasted warm and aromatic in the nostrils; and from a great way
forward in the wood, the brightness of lights and fire marked
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Europeans by Henry James: of his own producing. This would have been fatuity if the optimism
it expressed had not been much more a hope than a prejudice.
It is beside the matter to say that he had a good conscience;
for the best conscience is a sort of self-reproach, and this young man's
brilliantly healthy nature spent itself in objective good intentions
which were ignorant of any test save exactness in hitting their mark.
He told Gertrude how he had walked over France and Italy with a painter's
knapsack on his back, paying his way often by knocking off a flattering
portrait of his host or hostess. He told her how he had played
the violin in a little band of musicians--not of high celebrity--
who traveled through foreign lands giving provincial concerts.
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