| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Mad King by Edgar Rice Burroughs: proof that the true Leopold was dead, and Peter of Blentz
waited with growing anxiety the coming of Coblich with
word that he had the king in custody. Peter was staking all
on a single daring move which he had decided to make in
his game of intrigue.
As Barney paced within the palace, waiting for word
that Leopold had been found, Peter of Blentz was filled with
equal apprehension as he, too, waited for the same tidings.
At last he heard the pound of hoofs upon the pavement
without and a moment later Coblich, his clothing streaked
with dirt, blood caked upon his face from a wound across
The Mad King |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Collection of Antiquities by Honore de Balzac: life, but given of her whole life, you behold that wonderful,
unexplained, and inexplicable thing--the love of a woman for one of
her children above the others. The outcome of this story is one more
proof of a proven truth--a mother's place cannot be filled. A mother
foresees danger long before a Mlle. Armande can admit the possibility
of it, even if the mischief is done. The one prevents the evil, the
other remedies it. And besides, in the maiden's motherhood there is an
element of blind adoration, she cannot bring herself to scold a
beautiful boy.
A practical knowledge of life, and the experience of business, had
taught the old notary a habit of distrustful clear-sighted observation
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Glasses by Henry James: spectacles. She was extraordinarily near-sighted, and whatever
they did to other objects they magnified immensely the kind eyes
behind them. Blest conveniences they were, in their hideous,
honest strength--they showed the good lady everything in the world
but her own queerness. This element was enhanced by wild braveries
of dress, reckless charges of colour and stubborn resistances of
cut, wondrous encounters in which the art of the toilet seemed to
lay down its life. She had the tread of a grenadier and the voice
of an angel.
In the course of a walk with her the day after my arrival I found
myself grabbing her arm with sudden and undue familiarity. I had
|
