| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Lesser Bourgeoisie by Honore de Balzac: political mysteries which would never enter your sister's mind."
"The devil!" cried Thuillier. "I think I've got a pretty observing
eye, and yet I can't see the slightest change in Brigitte toward you."
"Oh, yes!" said la Peyrade, "your eyesight is so good that you have
never seen perpetually beside her that Madame de Godollo, whom she now
thinks she can't live without."
"Ha, ha!" said Thuillier, slyly, "so it is a little jealousy, is it,
in our mind?"
"Jealousy!" retorted la Peyrade. "I don't know if that's the right
word, but certainly your sister--whose mind is nothing above the
ordinary, and to whom I am surprised that a man of your intellectual
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Early Short Fiction of Edith Wharton by Edith Wharton: "That brings us back to the poison," McCarren continued, his
note-book out. "Just go over that again, will you?"
And Granice went over it again. It had all been so simple at the
time--and he had been so clever in covering up his traces! As
soon as he decided on poison he looked about for an acquaintance
who manufactured chemicals; and there was Jim Dawes, a Harvard
classmate, in the dyeing business--just the man. But at the last
moment it occurred to him that suspicion might turn toward so
obvious an opportunity, and he decided on a more tortuous course.
Another friend, Carrick Venn, a student of medicine whom
irremediable ill-health had kept from the practice of his
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from An Inland Voyage by Robert Louis Stevenson: The water was yellow and turbulent, swung with an angry eddy among
half-submerged willows, and made an angry clatter along stony
shores. The course kept turning and turning in a narrow and well-
timbered valley. Now the river would approach the side, and run
griding along the chalky base of the hill, and show us a few open
colza-fields among the trees. Now it would skirt the garden-walls
of houses, where we might catch a glimpse through a doorway, and
see a priest pacing in the chequered sunlight. Again, the foliage
closed so thickly in front, that there seemed to be no issue; only
a thicket of willows, overtopped by elms and poplars, under which
the river ran flush and fleet, and where a kingfisher flew past
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