| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Eugenie Grandet by Honore de Balzac: fresh illusions of life were still, for her at least, upon his face;
she vowed to herself to love him always. Then she cast her eyes on the
other letter, without attaching much importance to this second
indiscretion; and though she read it, it was only to obtain new proofs
of the noble qualities which, like all women, she attributed to the
man her heart had chosen.
My dear Alphonse,--When you receive this letter I shall be without
friends; but let me assure you that while I doubt the friendship
of the world, I have never doubted yours. I beg you therefore to
settle all my affairs, and I trust to you to get as much as you
can out of my possessions. By this time you know my situation. I
Eugenie Grandet |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from House of Mirth by Edith Wharton: will she think?"
"She goes to bed. I have a latch-key. It doesn't matter--I can't
go back there."
"There's no need to: you shall stay here. But you must tell me
where you have been. Listen, Lily--it will help you to speak!"
She regained Miss Bart's hands, and pressed them against her.
"Try to tell me--it will clear your poor head. Listen--you were
dining at Carry Fisher's." Gerty paused and added with a flash of
heroism: "Lawrence Selden went from here to find you."
At the word, Lily's face melted from locked anguish to the open
misery of a child. Her lips trembled and her gaze widened with
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Proposed Roads To Freedom by Bertrand Russell: of his present system. We saw each other fairly
often, for I respected him much for his learning and his
passionate and serious devotion (always mixed, however,
with personal vanity) to the cause of the proletariat,
and I sought eagerly his conversation, which was always
instructive and clever, when it was not inspired by a
paltry hate, which, alas! happened only too often. But
there was never any frank intimacy between as. Our
temperaments would not suffer it. He called me a
sentimental idealist, and he was right; I called him a
vain man, perfidious and crafty, and I also was right.
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