|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Start in Life by Honore de Balzac:
Moreau had paid his butcher with pigs from the farm, after reserving
those he needed for his own use.
On one occasion, the countess, always kind and good to her former
maid, gave her, as a souvenir perhaps, a little travelling-carriage,
the fashion of which was out of date. Moreau had it repainted, and now
drove his wife about the country with two good horses which belonged
to the farm. Besides these horses, Moreau had his own saddle-horse. He
did enough farming on the count's property to keep the horses and
maintain his servants. He stacked three hundred tons of excellent hay,
but accounted for only one hundred, making use of a vague permission
once granted by the count. He kept his poultry-yard, pigeon-cotes, and
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Dust by Mr. And Mrs. Haldeman-Julius:
"Well, I'm not going to beat about the bush," continued her
sister-in-law abruptly. "He's working in the mines all right, but
he isn't digging coal at all, though that would be bad enough. I
wouldn't say a word about it, but I think you ought to know the
truth and put a stop to such a risky business--he's firing
Rose's heart jumped, but she continued to wind up her large ball
with the same uninterrupted motion.
"Are you sure?"
"I made Frank find out for certain. It's an extra dangerous mine
because gas forms in it unusually often, and he gets fifteen
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Bucolics by Virgil:
Shall oft with gentle murmur lull to sleep,
While the leaf-dresser beneath some tall rock
Uplifts his song, nor cease their cooings hoarse
The wood-pigeons that are your heart's delight,
Nor doves their moaning in the elm-tree top.
Sooner shall light stags, therefore, feed in air,
The seas their fish leave naked on the strand,
Germans and Parthians shift their natural bounds,
And these the Arar, those the Tigris drink,
Than from my heart his face and memory fade.