| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Mistress Wilding by Rafael Sabatini: bounded forward in a wild delight that robbed it on the instant of its
voice. It found it anon and leapt about him, barking furious joy in
pite of all his vain endeavours to calm it. He grew afraid lest the
dog should draw attention. He knew not who - if any - might be in
possession of his house. The library, as he looked round, showed a
scene of wreckage that excellently matched the exterior. Not a picture
on the walls, not an arras, but had been rent to shreds. The great
lustre that had hung from the centre of the ceiling was gone. Disorder
reigned along the bookshelves, and yet there and elsewhere there was a
certain orderliness, suggesting an attempt to straighten up the place
after the ravagers had departed. It was these signs made him afraid
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Agnes Grey by Anne Bronte: Early in June, I received a letter from Lady Ashby, late Miss
Murray. She had written to me twice or thrice before, from the
different stages of her bridal tour, always in good spirits, and
professing to be very happy. I wondered every time that she had
not forgotten me, in the midst of so much gaiety and variety of
scene. At length, however, there was a pause; and it seemed she
had forgotten me, for upwards of seven months passed away and no
letter. Of course, I did not break my heart about THAT, though I
often wondered how she was getting on; and when this last epistle
so unexpectedly arrived, I was glad enough to receive it. It was
dated from Ashby Park, where she was come to settle down at last,
Agnes Grey |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from New Arabian Nights by Robert Louis Stevenson: had he to wait long. A window was suddenly opened, and a pailful
of slops splashed down upon the doorstep. Villon had not been
unprepared for something of the sort, and had put himself as much
in shelter as the nature of the porch admitted; but for all that,
he was deplorably drenched below the waist. His hose began to
freeze almost at once. Death from cold and exposure stared him in
the face; he remembered he was of phthisical tendency, and began
coughing tentatively. But the gravity of the danger steadied his
nerves. He stopped a few hundred yards from the door where he had
been so rudely used, and reflected with his finger to his nose. He
could only see one way of getting a lodging, and that was to take
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