| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Under the Red Robe by Stanley Weyman: had viewed the valley we paused to breathe our horses,
and the strange feelings with which I looked back on the
scene may be imagined. But I had short time for
indulging in sentiment or recollections. A curt word,
and we were moving again.
A quarter of a mile farther on, the road to Auch dipped
into the valley. When we were already half way down
this descent the innkeeper suddenly stretched out his
hand and caught my rein.
'This way!' he said.
I saw that he would have me turn into a by-path leading
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from My Bondage and My Freedom by Frederick Douglass: with much in the chara@@ and condition of the people to approve,
and much to condemn; much that @@thrilled me with pleasure, and
very much that has filled me with pain. I @@ @@t, in this
letter, attempt to give any description of those scenes which
have given me pain. This I will do hereafter. I have enough,
and more than your subscribers will be disposed to read at one
time, of the bright side of the picture. I can truly say, I have
spent some of the happiest moments of my life since landing in
this country. I seem to have undergone a transformation. I live
a new life. The warm and generous cooperation extended to me by
the friends of my despised race; the prompt and liberal manner
My Bondage and My Freedom |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Juana by Honore de Balzac: all the conscientious purity of her youth, that distinction, subtle in
appearance but sacredly true, legal with the heart's legality, which
women apply instinctively to all their feelings, even the least
reflective. Juana became profoundly sad as she saw the nature and the
extent of the life before her. Often she turned her eyes, brimming
with tears proudly repressed, upon Perez and Dona Lagounia, who fully
comprehended, both of them, the bitter thoughts those tears contained.
But they were silent: of what good were reproaches now; why look for
consolations? The deeper they were, the more they enlarged the wound.
One evening, Juana, stupid with grief, heard through the open door of
her little room, which the old couple had thought shut, a pitying moan
|
