| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from At the Sign of the Cat & Racket by Honore de Balzac: four in the afternoon, Augustine, pale, trembling, and with red eyes,
was haled before her father and mother. The poor child artlessly
related the too brief tale of her love. Reassured by a speech from her
father, who promised to listen to her in silence, she gathered courage
as she pronounced to her parents the name of Theodore de Sommervieux,
with a mischievous little emphasis on the aristocratic /de/. And
yielding to the unknown charm of talking of her feelings, she was
brave enough to declare with innocent decision that she loved Monsieur
de Sommervieux, that she had written to him, and she added, with tears
in her eyes: "To sacrifice me to another man would make me wretched."
"But, Augustine, you cannot surely know what a painter is?" cried her
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Dream Life and Real Life by Olive Schreiner: cloud anywhere; and the moon shone in through the bushes in the door, and
made a lattice-work of light on her face. She was dreaming a beautiful
dream. The loveliest dreams of all are dreamed when you are hungry. She
thought she was walking in a beautiful place, holding her father's hand,
and they both had crowns on their heads, crowns of wild asparagus. The
people whom they passed smiled and kissed her; some gave her flowers, and
some gave her food, and the sunlight was everywhere. She dreamed the same
dream over and over, and it grew more and more beautiful; till, suddenly,
it seemed as though she were standing quite alone. She looked up: on one
side of her was the high precipice, on the other was the river, with the
willow trees, drooping their branches into the water; and the moonlight was
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Frances Waldeaux by Rebecca Davis: showed.
They came into the courtyard of the Chateau de la Motte,
the ancient castle of the Breton dukes, which is now an
inn. The red sunset flamed up behind the sad little town
and its gray old houses and spires massed on the hill,
and the black river creeping by. George's eyes kindled
at the sombre picture.
"In this very court," he said, "Constance stood when she
summoned the States of Brittany to save her boy Arthur
from King John."
"Oh, yes, you have read of it to me in your Shakespeare.
|