| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Light of Western Stars by Zane Grey: saddle, moving with the horse.
"I suppose that's a cowboy's style. It pleases me," she said.
"How different from the seat of Eastern riders!"
Then Madeline sat upon the porch and fell to interested
observation of her surrounding. Near at hand it was decidedly
not prepossessing. The street was deep in dust, and the cool
wind whipped up little puffs. The houses along this street were
all low, square, flat-roofed structures made of some kind of red
cement. It occurred to her suddenly that this building-material
must be the adobe she had read about. There was no person in
sight. The long street appeared to have no end, though the line
 The Light of Western Stars |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Alkahest by Honore de Balzac: catastrophes of fortune and the crises of fate? Perhaps the sentiment
which unites them to the men they love gives them a sense by which
they weigh force, measure faculties, understand tastes, passions,
vices, virtues. The perpetual study of these causes in the midst of
which they live gives them, no doubt, the fatal power of foreseeing
effects in all possible relations of earthly life. What they see of
the present enables them to judge of the future with an intuitive
ability explained by the perfection of their nervous system, which
allows them to seize the lightest indications of thought and feeling.
Their whole being vibrates in communion with great moral convulsions.
Either they feel, or they see.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Purse by Honore de Balzac: persons try to prove their affection. Between these two there was
such a constant interchange of sweet emotion that they knew not
which gave or received the most.
A spontaneous affinity made the union of their souls a close one.
The progress of this true feeling was so rapid that two months
after the accident to which the painter owed the happiness of
knowing Adelaide, their lives were one life. From early morning
the young girl, hearing footsteps overhead, could say to herself,
"He is there." When Hippolyte went home to his mother at the
dinner hour he never failed to look in on his neighbors, and in
the evening he flew there at the accustomed hour with a lover's
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