| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Purse by Honore de Balzac: current of his thoughts, he then lost himself in one of those
meditative moods which ravish and elevate the soul, soothe it,
and comfort it. His reverie had no doubt lasted a long time.
Night fell. Whether he meant to come down from his perch, or
whether he made some ill-judged movement, believing himself to be
on the floor--the event did not allow of his remembering exactly
the cause of his accident--he fell, his head struck a footstool,
he lost consciousness and lay motionless during a space of time
of which he knew not the length.
A sweet voice roused him from the stunned condition into which he
had sunk. When he opened his eyes the flash of a bright light
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Egmont by Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe: Silva. All. Egmont especially. He is the only one whose demeanour, since
your arrival, remains unchanged. The live-long day he is now on one horse
and now on another; he invites guests as usual, is merry and entertaining at
table, plays at dice, shoots, and at night steals to his mistress. The others,
on the contrary, have made a manifest pause in their mode of life; they
remain at home, and, from the outward aspect of their houses, you would
imagine that there was a sick man within.
Alva. To work then, ere they recover in spite of us.
Silva. I shall bring them without fail. In obedience to your commands we
load them with officious honours; they are alarmed; cautiously, yet
anxiously, they tender us their thanks, feel that flight would be the most
Egmont |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Start in Life by Honore de Balzac: Coralie. In Paris there are suites of rooms as well as houses and
streets that have their predestinations. Enriched with a magnificent
service of plate, the "prima danseuse" of the Gaiete began to give
dinners, spent three hundred francs a month on her dress, never went
out except in a hired carriage, and had a maid for herself, a cook,
and a little footman.
In fact, an engagement at the Opera was already in the wind. The Cocon
d'Or did homage to its first master by sending its most splendid
products for the gratification of Mademoiselle Cabirolle, now called
Florentine. The magnificence which suddenly burst upon her apartment
in the rue de Vendome would have satisfied the most ambitious
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