| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Case of the Golden Bullet by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner: what lay beyond the gate, until he had searched the garden thoroughly.
But even for his sharp eyes there was no trace to be found that
would tell of the night visit of the murderer.
"In which of the pails did you put the key to the side door?" he
asked.
"In the first pail on the right hand side. But be careful, sir;
there's a nail sticking out of the post there. The wind tore off
a piece of wood yesterday."
The warning came too late. Muller's sleeve tore apart with a sharp
sound just as Johann spoke, for the detective had already plunged
his hand into the pail. The bottom of the bucket was easy to reach,
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Duchesse de Langeais by Honore de Balzac: it is the leap over the precipice. A woman has but one
motive--she is a woman still; she betrothes herself to a Heavenly
Bridegroom. Of the monk you may ask, "Why did you not fight
your battle?" But if a woman immures herself in the cloister,
is there not always a sublime battle fought first?
At length it seemed to the General that that still room, and the
lonely convent in the sea, were full of thoughts of him. Love
seldom attains to solemnity; yet surely a love still faithful in
the breast of God was something solemn, something more than a man
had a right to look for as things are in this nineteenth century?
The infinite grandeur of the situation might well produce an
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Tales of Unrest by Joseph Conrad: an empty hole. Then, without stirring in the least, he continued:
"Yes. Perfectly clear. I've been tried to the utmost, and I can't
pretend that, for a time, the old feelings--the old feelings are
not. . . ." He sighed. . . . "But I forgive you. . . ."
She made a slight movement without uncovering her eyes. In his
profound scrutiny of the carpet he noticed nothing. And there was
silence, silence within and silence without, as though his words had
stilled the beat and tremor of all the surrounding life, and the house
had stood alone--the only dwelling upon a deserted earth.
He lifted his head and repeated solemnly:
"I forgive you . . . from a sense of duty--and in the hope . . ."
Tales of Unrest |
