| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Pathology of Lying, Etc. by William and Mary Healy: she hunted up the distant relatives who took her in and informed
the mother. The girl intended to earn her own living and soon
found a good place. She was always able to make a good
presentation of herself, being a quiet and convincing
conversationalist.
Out of the mess of lies surrounding her New York experience, it
was finally found that she had met a young man in a
boarding-house and had become infatuated with him. He was an
honest enough fellow, but fell in readily with her forwardness.
He took her to shows, and letters, intercepted by the mother,
showed that between them there had been some premature love
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Father Goriot by Honore de Balzac: that if they loved their husbands his visits must make mischief.
So he immolated himself. He made the sacrifice because he was a
father; he went into voluntary exile. His daughters were
satisfied, so he thought that he had done the best thing he
could; but it was a family crime, and father and daughters were
accomplices. You see this sort of thing everywhere. What could
this old Doriot have been but a splash of mud in his daughters'
drawing-rooms? He would only have been in the way, and bored
other people, besides being bored himself. And this that happened
between father and daughters may happen to the prettiest woman in
Paris and the man she loves the best; if her love grows tiresome,
 Father Goriot |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Royalty Restored/London Under Charles II by J. Fitzgerald Molloy: commended itself to his adventurous spirit. Accordingly he
selected a night on which the heiress supped at Whitehall with
her friend Miss Stuart, for conducting his enterprise. It
therefore happened that as Elizabeth Mallett was returning home
from the palace in company with her grandfather, their coach was
suddenly stopped at Charing Cross. Apprehending some danger,
Lord Hawley looked out, and by the red light of a score of
torches flashing through darkness, saw he was surrounded by a
band of armed men, both afoot and on horse. Their action was
prompt and decisive, for before either my lord or his
granddaughter was aware of their intention, the latter was
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