|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Second Home by Honore de Balzac:
"But Angelique?" asked the young man.
"If you do not marry her, Angelique is done for," said the Count. "Our
holy apostles counsel her to live a virgin martyr. I have had the
utmost difficulty in stirring up her little heart, since she has been
the only child, by talking to her of you; but, as you will easily
understand, as soon as she is married you will carry her off to Paris.
There, festivities, married life, the theatres, and the rush of
Parisian society, will soon make her forget confessionals, and
fasting, and hair shirts, and Masses, which are the exclusive
nourishment of such creatures."
"But the fifty thousand francs a year derived from Church property?
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Flower Fables by Louisa May Alcott:
again received as children of their loving Queen. The task is hard,
for none but the best and purest can form the Fairy garments; yet with
patience they may yet restore their robes to their former brightness.
Farewell, good little maiden; come with them, for but for you they
would have dwelt for ever without the walls of Fairy-Land."
"Good speed to you, and farewell," cried they all, as, with loving
messages to their poor friends, they bore her to the gates.
Day after day toiled little Bud, cheering the Fairies, who,
angry and disappointed, would not listen to her gentle words,
but turned away and sat alone weeping. They grieved her kind heart
with many cruel words; but patiently she bore with them, and when
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Drama on the Seashore by Honore de Balzac:
three elements, and yet it is varied."
"Women alone know how to render such impressions," I said. "You would
be the despair of a poet, dear soul that I divine so well!"
"The extreme heat of mid-day casts into those three expressions of the
infinite an all-powerful color," said Pauline, smiling. "I can here
conceive the poesy and the passion of the East."
"And I can perceive its despair."
"Yes," she said, "this dune is a cloister,--a sublime cloister."
We now heard the hurried steps of our guide; he had put on his Sunday
clothes. We addressed a few ordinary words to him; he seemed to think
that our mood had changed, and with that reserve that comes of misery,