| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Case of The Lamp That Went Out by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner: hers.
"Adele! Adele! 'Why are you here?" he stammered finally.
"I want to be with you - in this hour," she answered, looking at
him with eyes of worship. "I want to be with my dear lady - to
comfort her - to protect her when - when - "
"When they arrest me?" Thorne finished the sentence himself. Then
turning to Muller he continued: "And that is why you are here?"
"Yes, Mr. Thorne. I have a warrant for your arrest in my pocket.
But I think it will be unnecessary to make use of it in the
customary official way through the authorities here. I see that
you have written to both police stations - confessing your deed.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Complete Angler by Izaak Walton: shall only tell you that St. Ambrose, the glorious bishop of Milan, who
lived when the church kept fasting-days, calls him the flower-fish, or
flower of fishes; and that he was so far in love with him, that he would
not let him pass without the honour of a long discourse; but I must; and
pass on to tell you how to take this dainty fish.
First note, that he grows not to the bigness of a Trout; for the biggest of
them do not usually exceed eighteen inches. He lives in such rivers as
the Trout does; and is usually taken with the same baits as the Trout is,
and after the same manner; for he will bite both at the minnow, or
worm, or fly, though he bites not often at the minnow, and is very
gamesome at the fly; and much simpler, and therefore bolder than a
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Soul of Man by Oscar Wilde: do not read it, and consequently do not influence it. The public
like to insult poets because they are individual, but once they
have insulted them, they leave them alone. In the case of the
novel and the drama, arts in which the public do take an interest,
the result of the exercise of popular authority has been absolutely
ridiculous. No country produces such badly-written fiction, such
tedious, common work in the novel form, such silly, vulgar plays as
England. It must necessarily be so. The popular standard is of
such a character that no artist can get to it. It is at once too
easy and too difficult to be a popular novelist. It is too easy,
because the requirements of the public as far as plot, style,
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