| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Daisy Miller by Henry James: It was settled that this brilliant personage should be brought to
Mrs. Walker's party, and then Mrs. Miller prepared to take her leave.
"I guess we'll go back to the hotel," she said.
"You may go back to the hotel, Mother, but I'm going to take
a walk," said Daisy.
"She's going to walk with Mr. Giovanelli," Randolph proclaimed.
"I am going to the Pincio," said Daisy, smiling.
"Alone, my dear--at this hour?" Mrs. Walker asked.
The afternoon was drawing to a close--it was the hour for
the throng of carriages and of contemplative pedestrians.
"I don't think it's safe, my dear," said Mrs. Walker.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Sanitary and Social Lectures by Charles Kingsley: convent. Every shout, every burst of laughter, every song--nay,
in the case of infants, as physiologists well know, every moderate
fit of crying--conduces to health, by rapidly filling and emptying
the lung, and changing the blood more rapidly from black to red,
that is, from death to life. Andrew Combe tells a story of a
large charity school, in which the young girls were, for the sake
of their health, shut up in the hall and school-room during play
hours, from November till March, and no romping or noise allowed.
The natural consequences were, the great majority of them fell
ill; and I am afraid that a great deal of illness has been from
time to time contracted in certain school-rooms, simply through
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from An Inland Voyage by Robert Louis Stevenson: cloud passed and the sun came out again, our spirits went up above
the range of stay-at-home humours. A good breeze rustled and
shivered in the rows of trees that bordered the canal. The leaves
flickered in and out of the light in tumultuous masses. It seemed
sailing weather to eye and ear; but down between the banks, the
wind reached us only in faint and desultory puffs. There was
hardly enough to steer by. Progress was intermittent and
unsatisfactory. A jocular person, of marine antecedents, hailed us
from the tow-path with a 'C'EST VITE, MAIS C'EST LONG.'
The canal was busy enough. Every now and then we met or overtook a
long string of boats, with great green tillers; high sterns with a
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