| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Mansion by Henry van Dyke: him
years ago, when he was a boy in the country.
"Welcome," said the old man. "Will you come with us?"
"Where are you going?"
"To the heavenly city, to see our mansions there."
"And who are these with you?"
"Strangers to me, until a little while ago; I know them better
now.
But you I have known for a long time, John Weightman. Don't you
remember
your old doctor?"
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy: whose wool was beginning to curl like a child's flaxen
hair, though surpassed in this respect by the effeminate
Leicesters, which were in turn less curly than the Cots-
wolds. But the most picturesque by far was a small
flock of Exmoors, which chanced to be there this year.
Their pied faces and legs, dark and heavy horns, tresses
of wool hanging round their swarthy foreheads, quite
relieved the monotony of the flocks in that quarter.
All these bleating, panting, and weary thousands had
entered and were penned before the morning had far
advanced, the dog belonging to each flock being tied to
Far From the Madding Crowd |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Deputy of Arcis by Honore de Balzac: against him. Returning to his original suspicions, he said to Jacques
Bricheteau,--
"Are you really sure that that person who declared himself my father
was the Marquis de Sallenauve, and that I am truly his son?"
"Mother Marie-des-Anges and Achille Pigoult, by whom I was warned of
this plot, have no more doubt than I have of the existence of the
Marquis de Sallenauve; this gossip with which they threaten you has,
in my judgment, but one dangerous aspect. I mean that by your absence
you are giving a free field to your adversaries."
"But," replied the deputy, "the Chamber will not condemn me without a
hearing. I wrote to the president and asked for leave of absence, and
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