| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Pocket Diary Found in the Snow by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner: busy on a problem.
The two men walked on quickly. In about half an hour they found
themselves in a little square in the middle of which stood an old
church. In front of the church, like giant sentinels, stood a pair
of tall poplars. One of them looked sickly and was a good deal
shorter than its neighbour. Muller nodded as if content.
"Is this the church the commissioner was talking about?" queried
Amster.
"It is," was the answer. Muller walked on toward a little house
built up against the church, which was evidently the dwelling of
the sexton.
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Coxon Fund by Henry James: CHAPTER IX
The thing I had been most sensible of in that talk with George
Gravener was the way Saltram's name kept out of it. It seemed to
me at the time that we were quite pointedly silent about him; but
afterwards it appeared more probable there had been on my
companion's part no conscious avoidance. Later on I was sure of
this, and for the best of reasons--the simple reason of my
perceiving more completely that, for evil as well as for good, he
said nothing to Gravener's imagination. That honest man didn't
fear him--he was too much disgusted with him. No more did I,
doubtless, and for very much the same reason. I treated my
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Daisy Miller by Henry James: of countenance, a pale complexion, and sharp little features.
He was dressed in knickerbockers, with red stockings, which displayed
his poor little spindle-shanks; he also wore a brilliant red cravat.
He carried in his hand a long alpenstock, the sharp point of which
he thrust into everything that he approached--the flowerbeds,
the garden benches, the trains of the ladies' dresses. In front
of Winterbourne he paused, looking at him with a pair of bright,
penetrating little eyes.
"Will you give me a lump of sugar?" he asked in a sharp, hard little voice--
a voice immature and yet, somehow, not young.
Winterbourne glanced at the small table near him, on which his coffee
|
