| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Drama on the Seashore by Honore de Balzac: "At this Jacques began to howl, for his father's face was all
distorted. His mother was rigid as an oar.
"'If you shout, if you stir, if you do not sit still on that stool,'
said Pierre, aiming the gun at him, 'I will shoot you like a dog.'
"Jacques was mute as a fish. The mother said nothing.
"'Here,' said Pierre, 'is a piece of paper which wrapped a Spanish
gold piece. That piece of gold was in your mother's bed; she alone
knew where it was. I found that paper in the water when I landed here
to-day. You gave a piece of Spanish gold this night to Mere Fleurant,
and your mother's piece is no longer in her bed. Explain all this.'
"Jacques said he had not taken his mother's money, and that the gold
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy: people. The lady who, afraid of being stopped by Count Rostopchin's
orders, had already in June moved with her Negroes and her women
jesters from Moscow to her Saratov estate, with a vague
consciousness that she was not Bonaparte's servant, was really,
simply, and truly carrying out the great work which saved Russia.
But Count Rostopchin, who now taunted those who left Moscow and now
had the government offices removed; now distributed quite useless
weapons to the drunken rabble; now had processions displaying the
icons, and now forbade Father Augustin to remove icons or the relics
of saints; now seized all the private carts in Moscow and on one
hundred and thirty-six of them removed the balloon that was being
War and Peace |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Moon-Face and Other Stories by Jack London: the other side the steep wall of the canyon fell away in impossible slopes and
sheer drops to the torrent at the bottom. It was an abyss of green beauty and
shady depths, pierced by vagrant shafts of the sun and mottled here and there
by the sun's broader blazes. The sound of rushing water ascended on the
windless air, and there was a hum of mountain bees.
The horses broke into an easy lope. Chris rock on the outside, looking down
into the great depths and pleasuring with his eyes in what he saw.
Dissociating itself from the murmur of the bees, a murmur arose of falling
water. It grew louder with every stride of the horses.
"Look!" he cried.
Lute leaned well out from her horse to see. Beneath them the water slid
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