| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Altar of the Dead by Henry James: then was kept an instant longer by the sound of a voice he knew.
Next him was a mumbling old woman, and beyond the old woman a
gentleman with a lady on his arm. It was from him, from Paul
Creston, the voice had proceeded: he was talking with the lady of
some precious object in the window. Stransom had no sooner
recognised him than the old woman turned away; but just with this
growth of opportunity came a felt strangeness that stayed him in
the very act of laying his hand on his friend's arm. It lasted but
the instant, only that space sufficed for the flash of a wild
question. Was NOT Mrs. Creston dead? - the ambiguity met him there
in the short drop of her husband's voice, the drop conjugal, if it
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Madame Firmiani by Honore de Balzac: to a man of immense wealth. It is nothing to me whether your nephew is
rich or poor; if I have received him in my house, and do now receive
him, it is because I consider him worthy to be counted among my
friends. All my friends, monsieur, respect each other; they know that
I have not philosophy enough to admit into my house those I do not
esteem; this may argue a want of charity; but my guardian-angel has
maintained in me to this day a profound aversion for tattle, and also
for dishonesty."
Through the ring of her voice was slightly raised during the first
part of this answer, the last words were said with the ease and self-
possession of Celimene bantering the Misanthrope.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Lucile by Owen Meredith: The sunlight of noon, as Lord Alfred ascended
The steep garden paths, every odor had blended
Of the ardent carnations, and faint heliotropes,
With the balms floated down from the dark wooded slopes:
A light breeze at the window was playing about,
And the white curtains floated, now in, and now out.
The house was all hush'd when he rang at the door,
Which was open'd to him in a moment, or more,
By an old nodding negress, whose sable head shined
In the sun like a cocoa-nut polished in Ind,
'Neath the snowy foulard which about it was wound.
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