| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from La Grande Breteche by Honore de Balzac: much, but he had such polite and amiable ways that it was impossible
to owe him a grudge for that. Oh! I was very fond of him, though he
did not say four words to me in a day, and it was impossible to have
the least bit of talk with him; if he was spoken to, he did not
answer; it is a way, a mania they all have, it would seem.
" 'He read his breviary like a priest, and went to mass and all the
services quite regularly. And where did he post himself?--we found
this out later.--Within two yards of Madame de Merret's chapel. As he
took that place the very first time he entered the church, no one
imagined that there was any purpose in it. Besides, he never raised
his nose above his book, poor young man! And then, monsieur, of an
La Grande Breteche |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Philosophy 4 by Owen Wister: the champagne. That was early. Bertie was astonished. Did not Billy
remember singing "Brace up and dress the Countess," and "A noble lord
the Earl of Leicester"? He had sung them quite in his usual manner,
conversing freely between whiles. In fact, to see and hear him, no one
would have suspected-- "It must have been that extra silver-fizz you
took before dinner," said Bertie. "Yes," said Billy;" that's what it
must have been." Bertie supplied the gap in his memory,--a matter of
several hours, it seemed. During most of this time Billy had met the
demands of each moment quite like his usual agreeable self--a
sleep-walking state. It was only when the hair incident was reached
that his conduct had noticeably crossed the line. He listened to all
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Golden Threshold by Sarojini Naidu: Of fallen white petals and leaves that are mellow and red,
Here let us burn them in noon's flaming torches of fire.
We are weary, my heart, we are weary, so long we have borne
The heavy loved burden of dreams that are dead, let us rest,
Let us scatter their ashes away, for a while let us mourn;
We will rest, O my heart, till the shadows are gray in the west.
But soon we must rise, O my heart, we must wander again
Into the war of the world and the strife of the throng;
Let us rise, O my heart, let us gather the dreams that remain,
We will conquer the sorrow of life with the sorrow of song.
PAST AND FUTURE
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