|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Secret Sharer by Joseph Conrad:
glimmering white in the darkness, his elbows on his knees and his
head in his hands. In a moment he had concealed his damp body
in a sleeping suit of the same gray-stripe pattern as the one
I was wearing and followed me like my double on the poop.
Together we moved right aft, barefooted, silent.
"What is it?" I asked in a deadened voice, taking the lighted lamp
out of the binnacle, and raising it to his face.
"An ugly business."
He had rather regular features; a good mouth; light eyes under
somewhat heavy, dark eyebrows; a smooth, square forehead; no growth
on his cheeks; a small, brown mustache, and a well-shaped, round chin.
The Secret Sharer
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Plain Tales from the Hills by Rudyard Kipling:
its General Manager's word carried weight with the Government--
picked their men well. They had tested Reggie up to a fairly severe
breaking-strain. They trusted him just as much as Directors ever
trust Managers. You must see for yourself whether their trust was
Reggie's Branch was in a big Station, and worked with the usual
staff--one Manager, one Accountant, both English, a Cashier, and a
horde of native clerks; besides the Police patrol at nights outside.
The bulk of its work, for it was in a thriving district, was hoondi
and accommodation of all kinds. A fool has no grip of this sort of
business; and a clever man who does not go about among his clients,
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Middlemarch by George Eliot:
"Come here, quick! else she will have changed her pose."
Quickness was ready at the call, and the two figures passed lightly
along by the Meleager, towards the hall where the reclining Ariadne,
then called the Cleopatra, lies in the marble voluptuousness
of her beauty, the drapery folding around her with a petal-like
ease and tenderness. They were just in time to see another
figure standing against a pedestal near the reclining marble:
a breathing blooming girl, whose form, not shamed by the Ariadne,
was clad in Quakerish gray drapery; her long cloak, fastened at
the neck, was thrown backward from her arms, and one beautiful
ungloved hand pillowed her cheek, pushing somewhat backward