| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Deputy of Arcis by Honore de Balzac: But when the news of Madame Marie-Gaston's death reached him Dorlange
forgot all and hastened to Ville d'Avray to comfort his friend.
Useless eagerness! Two hours after that sad funeral was over, Marie-
Gaston, without a thought for his friends or for a sister-in-law and
two nephews who were dependent on him, flung himself into a post-
chaise and started for Italy. Dorlange felt that this egotism of
sorrow filled the measure of the wrong already done to him; and he
endeavored to efface from his heart even the recollection of a
friendship which sympathy under misfortune could not recall.
My husband and I loved Louise de Chaulieu too tenderly not to continue
our affection for the man who had been so much to her. Before leaving
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Babbitt by Sinclair Lewis: Say, gee, I ought to have a car of my own, like lots of the fellows." Babbitt
almost rose. "A car of your own! Don't you want a yacht, and a house and lot?
That pretty nearly takes the cake! A boy that can't pass his Latin
examinations, like any other boy ought to, and he expects me to give him a
motor-car, and I suppose a chauffeur, and an areoplane maybe, as a reward for
the hard work he puts in going to the movies with Eunice Littlefield! Well,
when you see me giving you--"
Somewhat later, after diplomacies, Ted persuaded Verona to admit that she was
merely going to the Armory, that evening, to see the dog and cat show. She was
then, Ted planned, to park the car in front of the candy-store across from the
Armory and he would pick it up. There were masterly arrangements regarding
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Tapestried Chamber by Walter Scott: exhausted by the effort, and bore him back to his castle in mute
sorrow; while his daughter at once wept for her brother, and
endeavoured to mitigate and soothe the despair of her father.
But this was impossible; the old man's only tie to life was rent
rudely asunder, and his heart had broken with it. The death of
his son had no part in his sorrow. If he thought of him at all,
it was as the degenerate boy through whom the honour of his
country and clan had been lost; and he died in the course of
three days, never even mentioning his name, but pouring out
unintermitted lamentations for the loss of his noble sword.
I conceive that the moment when the disabled chief was roused
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