| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The White Moll by Frank L. Packard: "Well, I'm listening!" jerked out the man abruptly. "You knew our
game at Skarbolov's was queered. You got the 'seven-three-nine,'
didn't you?"
"Yes, of course, I got it," answered Rhoda Gray. "What about it?"
"For two weeks now, yes, more than two weeks" - the man's voice
rasped angrily - "things have been going wrong, and some one has
been butting in and getting away with the goods under our noses.
We know now, from last night, that it must have been the White Moll,
for one, though it's not likely she worked all alone. Skeeny dropped
to the fact that the police were wise about Skarbolov's, and that's
why we called it off, and the 'seven-three-nine' went out. They
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Bronte Sisters: recollections; though, to be sure, he would find little good of
himself therein indited, except in the former part; and oh, I would
sooner burn it all than he should read what I had written when I
was such a fool as to love him!
'And by-the-by,' cried he, as I was leaving the room, 'you'd better
tell that d-d old sneak of a nurse to keep out of my way for a day
or two; I'd pay her her wages and send her packing to-morrow, but I
know she'd do more mischief out of the house than in it.'
And as I departed, he went on cursing and abusing my faithful
friend and servant with epithets I will not defile this paper with
repeating. I went to her as soon as I had put away my book, and
The Tenant of Wildfell Hall |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Boys' Life of Abraham Lincoln by Helen Nicolay: backwoods volunteer company to Commander-in-Chief of the Army and
Navy, was neither sudden nor accidental, nor easy. He was both
ambitious and successful, but his ambition was moderate, and his
success was slow. And, because his success was slow, it never
outgrew either his judgment or his powers. Between the day when
he left his father's cabin and launched his canoe on the
headwaters of the Sangamon River to begin life on his own
account, and the day of his first inauguration, lay full thirty
years of toil, self-denial, patience; often of effort baffled, of
hope deferred; sometimes of bitter disappointment. Even with the
natural gift of great genius it required an average lifetime and
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