| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Madame Firmiani by Honore de Balzac: out, much dressed, rather rouged, charming manners; in short, my dear
fellow, the remains of a pretty woman who is still worth the trouble
of a passion." This remark is from the species Fop, who has just
breakfasted, doesn't weigh his words, and is about to mount his horse.
At that particular moment Fops are pitiless.
"Magnificent collection of pictures in her house; go and see them by
all means," answers another. "Nothing finer." You have questioned one
of the species Connoisseur. He leaves you to go to Perignon's or
Tripet's. To him, Madame Firmiani is a collection of painted canvases.
A Woman: "Madame Firmiani? I don't wish you to visit her>" This remark
is rich in meanings. Madame Firmiani! dangerous woman! a siren!
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Paz by Honore de Balzac: frivolous, just as a young fellow is, and I knew I was certain to ruin
myself at play, or get inveigled by some woman, and Paz and I might
then be parted; and though I had every intention of always looking out
for him, I knew I might sometime or other forget to provide for him.
In short, my dear angel, I wanted to spare him the pain and
mortification of having to ask me for money, or of having to hunt me
up if he got into distress. SO, one morning, after breakfast, when we
were sitting with our feet on the andirons smoking pipes, I produced,
--with the utmost precaution, for I saw him look at me uneasily,--a
certificate of the Funds payable to bearer for a certain sum of money
a year."
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Life in the Iron-Mills by Rebecca Davis: and come out outraged, hardened.
One rainy night, about eleven o'clock, a crowd of half-clothed
women stopped outside of the cellar-door. They were going home
from the cotton-mill.
"Good-night, Deb," said one, a mulatto, steadying herself
against the gas-post. She needed the post to steady her. So
did more than one of them.
"Dah's a ball to Miss Potts' to-night. Ye'd best come."
"Inteet, Deb, if hur'll come, hur'll hef fun," said a shrill
Welsh voice in the crowd.
Two or three dirty hands were thrust out to catch the gown of
Life in the Iron-Mills |
