| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Nana, Miller's Daughter, Captain Burle, Death of Olivier Becaille by Emile Zola: "Yes, she told me so. In fact, she did receive my visit, and she
invited me. Midnight punctually, after the play."
The banker was beaming. He winked and added with a peculiar
emphasis on the words:
"You've worked it, eh?"
"Eh, what?" said Fauchery, pretending not to understand him. "She
wanted to thank me for my article, so she came and called on me."
"Yes, yes. You fellows are fortunate. You get rewarded. By the
by, who pays the piper tomorrow?"
The journalist made a slight outward movement with his arms, as
though he would intimate that no one had ever been able to find out.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Book of Remarkable Criminals by H. B. Irving: vault, the appointment made with Parkman at the college, the
statement to Pettee, all point to some degree of premeditation,
or at least would make it appear that the murder of Parkman had
been considered by him as a possible eventuality. His accusation
of Littlefield deprives him of a good deal of sympathy. On the
other hand, the age and position of Webster, the aggravating
persistency of Parkman, his threats and denunciations, coupled
with his own shortness of temper, make it conceivable that he may
have killed his victim on a sudden and overmastering provocation,
in which case he had better at once have acknowledged his crime
instead of making a repulsive attempt to conceal it. But for the
A Book of Remarkable Criminals |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Drama on the Seashore by Honore de Balzac: saw me, she said,--
"What is it?"
I did not answer; my eyes were moist. The night before, Pauline had
understood my sorrows, as she now understood my joy, with the magical
sensitiveness of a harp that obeys the variations of the atmosphere.
Human life has glorious moments. Together we walked in silence along
the beach. The sky was cloudless, the sea without a ripple; others
might have thought them merely two blue surfaces, the one above the
other, but we--we who heard without the need of words, we who could
evoke between these two infinitudes the illusions that nourish youth,
--we pressed each other's hands at every change in the sheet of water
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