| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Atheist's Mass by Honore de Balzac: the individual, to determine the very time, the hour, the minute
when an operation should be performed, making due allowance for
atmospheric conditions and peculiarities of individual
temperament. To proceed thus, hand in hand with nature, had he
then studied the constant assimilation by living beings, of the
elements contained in the atmosphere, or yielded by the earth to
man who absorbs them, deriving from them a particular expression
of life? Did he work it all out by the power of deduction and
analogy, to which we owe the genius of Cuvier? Be this as it may,
this man was in all the secrets of the human frame; he knew it in
the past and in the future, emphasizing the present.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Ann Veronica by H. G. Wells: interested in this suffrage question. I have it on my conscience
that I offended you--"
"Offended me when?"
"I've been haunted by the memory of you. I was rude and stupid.
We were talking about the suffrage--and I rather scoffed."
"You weren't rude," she said.
"I didn't know you were so keen on this suffrage business."
"Nor I. You haven't had it on your mind all this time?"
"I have rather. I felt somehow I'd hurt you."
"You didn't. I--I hurt myself."
"I mean--"
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Dawn O'Hara, The Girl Who Laughed by Edna Ferber: somber eyes would have flamed into sudden wrath if he
could have seen how utterly and completely New York had
forgotten Peter Orme. He had been buried alive ten years
before--and Newspaper Row has no faith in resurrections.
Peter Orme was not even a memory. Ten years is an age in
a city where epochs are counted by hours.
Now, after two weeks of Norah's loving care, I was
back in the pretty little city by the lake. I had come
to say farewell to all those who had filled my life so
completely in that year. My days of newspaper work were
over. The autumn and winter would be spent at Norah's,
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