|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Rise and Fall of Cesar Birotteau by Honore de Balzac:
selling perfumery for twenty years to those who came to buy it. If the
State demands the help of our intelligence, we are as much bound to
give it as we are to pay the tax on personal property, on windows and
doors, /et caetera/. Do you want to stay forever behind your counter?
You have been there, thank God, a long time. This ball shall be our
fete,--yours and mine. Good-by to economy,--for your sake, be it
understood. I burn our sign, 'The Queen of Roses'; I efface the name,
'Cesar Birotteau, Perfumer, Successor to Ragon,' and put simply,
'Perfumery' in big letters of gold. On the /entresol/ I place the
office, the counting-room, and a pretty little sanctum for you. I make
the shop out of the back-shop, the present dining-room, and kitchen. I
Rise and Fall of Cesar Birotteau
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Roads of Destiny by O. Henry:
as foolish and unnecessary, but Uncle Bushrod was not to be deflected
"I done told Sister Adaline Hoskins," he said, "to come by here for
dat book to-morrer mawnin' at sebin o'clock, for to kyar' it to de
meetin' of de bo'd of 'rangements, and dat book gwine to be here when
So, Uncle Bushrod put on his old brown suit, got his thick hickory
stick, and meandered through the almost deserted streets of
Weymouthville. He entered the bank, unlocking the side door, and found
the pass-book where he had left it, in the little back room used for
consultations, where he always hung his coat. Looking about casually,
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Lin McLean by Owen Wister:
various spots outside, that he became talkative again for a while. We lay
in the blank--we had spread on some soft, dry sand in preference to the
stable, where Taylor and Tommy had gone. Under the contemplative
influence of the stars, Lin fell into generalization.
"Ever notice," said he, "how whiskey and lyin' act the same on a man?"
I did not feel sure that I had.
"Just the same way. You keep either of 'em up long enough, and yu' get to
require it. If Tommy didn't lie some every day, he'd get sick."
I was sleepy, but I murmured assent to this, and trusted he would not go
"Ever notice," said he, "how the victims of the whiskey and lyin' habit