|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Z. Marcas by Honore de Balzac:
certain ambitious spirits who, at least, had one idea in common--that
of shaking off the yoke of the Court. But Marcas could only reply to
the envoy in the words of the Hotel de Ville:
"It is too late!"
Marcas did not leave money enough to pay for his funeral. Juste and I
had great difficulty in saving him from the ignominy of a pauper's
bier, and we alone followed the coffin of Z. Marcas, which was dropped
into the common grave of the cemetery of Mont-Parnasse.
We looked sadly at each other as we listened to this tale, the last we
heard from the lips of Charles Rabourdin the day before he embarked at
le Havre on a brig that was to convey him to the islands of Malay. We
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Death of the Lion by Henry James:
to show how far he could make him go. Poor Paraday, in return, was
naturally to write something somewhere about the young artist. She
played her victims against each other with admirable ingenuity, and
her establishment was a huge machine in which the tiniest and the
biggest wheels went round to the same treadle. I had a scene with
her in which I tried to express that the function of such a man was
to exercise his genius - not to serve as a hoarding for pictorial
posters. The people I was perhaps angriest with were the editors
of magazines who had introduced what they called new features, so
aware were they that the newest feature of all would be to make him
grind their axes by contributing his views on vital topics and
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Mistress Wilding by Rafael Sabatini:
army that he might win the great man's favour.
"I have told your lordship," said Blake, froth on his lips, "that the
twenty men I had from you, as well as Ensign Norris, are dead in
Bridgwater, and that my plan to carry off King Monmouth has come to
ruin, all because we were betrayed by this woman. It is now my further
privilege to point out to your lordship the man to whom she sold us."
Feversham misliked Sir Rowland's arrogant tone, misliked his angry,
scornful glance. His eyes narrowed, the laughter faded slowly from his
"Yes, yes, I remember," said he; "t'is lady, you have tole us, betray
you. Ver' well. But you have not tole us who betray you to t'is lady."