| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Sentimental Journey by Laurence Sterne: bookseller's shop, and how that had impelled me rather to go to him
with the story of a little embarrassment I was under, than to any
other man in France. - And what is your embarrassment? let me hear
it, said the Count. So I told him the story just as I have told it
the reader.
- And the master of my hotel, said I, as I concluded it, will needs
have it, Monsieur le Count, that I shall be sent to the Bastile; -
but I have no apprehensions, continued I; - for, in falling into
the hands of the most polish'd people in the world, and being
conscious I was a true man, and not come to spy the nakedness of
the land, I scarce thought I lay at their mercy. - It does not suit
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Lair of the White Worm by Bram Stoker: centuries, this particular animal is known to attack only one kind
of other animal, are we not justified in assuming that when one of
them attacks a hitherto unclassed animal, he recognises in that
animal some quality which it has in common with the hereditary
enemy?"
"That is a good argument, sir," Adam went on, "but a dangerous one.
If we followed it out, it would lead us to believe that Lady
Arabella is a snake."
"We must be sure, before going to such an end, that there is no
point as yet unconsidered which would account for the unknown thing
which puzzles us."
Lair of the White Worm |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Drama on the Seashore by Honore de Balzac: thwarted, grew as vicious as a red ass. When they told pere Cambremer,
'Your son has nearly killed little such a one,' he would laugh and
say: 'Bah! he'll be a bold sailor; he'll command the king's fleets.'--
Another time, 'Pierre Cambremer, did you know your lad very nearly put
out the eye of the little Pougard girl?'--'Ha! he'll like the girls,'
said Pierre. Nothing troubled him. At ten years old the little cur
fought everybody, and amused himself with cutting the hens' necks off
and ripping up the pigs; in fact, you might say he wallowed in blood.
'He'll be a famous soldier,' said Cambremer, 'he's got the taste of
blood.' Now, you see," said the fisherman, "I can look back and
remember all that--and Cambremer, too," he added, after a pause. "By
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