| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Country Doctor by Honore de Balzac: spite of the paces of his horse he still heard the doctor beside him.
At a word from Benassis his own horse left the commandant so far
behind that the latter only came up with him at the gate of the brick-
field, where the doctor was quietly fastening the bridle to the gate-
post.
"The devil take it!" cried Genestas, after a look at the horse, that
was neither sweated nor blown. "What kind of animal have you there?"
"Ah!" said the doctor, "you took him for a screw! The history of this
fine fellow would take up too much time just now; let it suffice to
say that Roustan is a thoroughbred barb from the Atlas mountains, and
a Barbary horse is as good as an Arab. This one of mine will gallop up
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Almayer's Folly by Joseph Conrad: the midnight carouse, Lingard seeing them drunk under the table
before going on board, himself unaffected by any amount of
liquor. Many tried to follow him and find that land of plenty
for gutta-percha and rattans, pearl shells and birds' nests, wax
and gum-dammar, but the little Flash could outsail every craft in
those seas. A few of them came to grief on hidden sandbanks and
coral reefs, losing their all and barely escaping with life from
the cruel grip of this sunny and smiling sea; others got
discouraged; and for many years the green and peaceful-looking
islands guarding the entrances to the promised land kept their
secret with all the merciless serenity of tropical nature. And
Almayer's Folly |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The White Moll by Frank L. Packard: room. She heard them talking together, as she followed. She
forced herself to walk with as nearly a leisurely defiant air as
she could. The last time she had been with Danglar - as Gypsy Nan
- she had, in self-protection, forbidding intimacy, played up what
he called her "grouch" at his neglect of her.
She paused in the doorway. Halfway across the room, at the table,
Danglar's gaunt, swarthy face showed under the rays of a shaded
oil lamp. Behind her spectacles, she met his small, black ferret
eyes steadily.
"Hello, Bertha!" he called out cheerily. "How's the old girl
to-night?" He rose from his seat to come toward her. "And how's
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