| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Pierre Grassou by Honore de Balzac: of artists.
In 1832, Fougeres lived in the rue de Navarin, on the fourth floor of
one of those tall, narrow houses which resemble the obelisk of Luxor,
and possess an alley, a dark little stairway with dangerous turnings,
three windows only on each floor, and, within the building, a
courtyard, or, to speak more correctly, a square pit or well. Above
the three or four rooms occupied by Grassou of Fougeres was his
studio, looking over to Montmartre. This studio was painted in brick-
color, for a background; the floor was tinted brown and well frotted;
each chair was furnished with a bit of carpet bound round the edges;
the sofa, simple enough, was clean as that in the bedroom of some
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe: could say no more for a good while. In this interval the good
advice of my father came to my mind, and presently his prediction,
which I mentioned at the beginning of this story - viz. that if I
did take this foolish step, God would not bless me, and I would
have leisure hereafter to reflect upon having neglected his counsel
when there might be none to assist in my recovery. "Now," said I,
aloud, "my dear father's words are come to pass; God's justice has
overtaken me, and I have none to help or hear me. I rejected the
voice of Providence, which had mercifully put me in a posture or
station of life wherein I might have been happy and easy; but I
would neither see it myself nor learn to know the blessing of it
Robinson Crusoe |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Heap O' Livin' by Edgar A. Guest: The ruins and the symbols of the winter that
is dead.
But the bleak and barren picture very shortly
now will pass,
For the halls of life are ready for their velvet
rugs of grass;
And the painters now are waiting with their
magic to replace
This dullness with a beauty that no mortal hand
can trace.
The green is in the meadow and the blue is in
A Heap O' Livin' |
