| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Pathology of Lying, Etc. by William and Mary Healy: His wonderful ability was demonstrated in the school to which he
was sent; there the teacher said that if she had the opportunity
she really believed she could put him through one grade a month.
His mental grasp on all subjects was astonishing and he wrote
most admirable essays, one of the best being on patriotism. But
even under the stable conditions of this school for six or seven
months the boy did not refrain from an extreme amount of
falsification and was much disliked by the other boys on account
of it.
Robert had continued his lying for years. At the time when we
were studying his case his prevaricating tendencies were shown in
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Early Short Fiction of Edith Wharton by Edith Wharton: England or sectarian, its student need never be at a loss for a
pertinent reference. Mrs. Leveret, though she had for years
devoutly conned its pages, valued it, however, rather for its
moral support than for its practical services; for though in the
privacy of her own room she commanded an army of quotations,
these invariably deserted her at the critical moment, and the
only line she retained--CANST THOU DRAW OUT LEVIATHAN WITH A
HOOK?--was one she had never yet found the occasion to apply.
To-day she felt that even the complete mastery of the volume
would hardly have insured her self-possession; for she thought it
probable, even if she DID, in some miraculous way, remember an
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde: Why should it keep what I must lose? Every moment that passes
takes something from me and gives something to it. Oh, if it
were only the other way! If the picture could change,
and I could be always what I am now! Why did you paint it?
It will mock me some day--mock me horribly!" The hot tears
welled into his eyes; he tore his hand away and, flinging himself
on the divan, he buried his face in the cushions, as though he
was praying.
"This is your doing, Harry," said the painter bitterly.
Lord Henry shrugged his shoulders. "It is the real Dorian Gray--
that is all."
The Picture of Dorian Gray |
