| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Distinguished Provincial at Paris by Honore de Balzac: spirits are contending, and do not sell your honor, as I do, for a
livelihood." Etienne's eyes filled with tears as he spoke.
"Do you know how I make a living?" he continued passionately. "The
little stock of money they gave me at home was soon eaten up. A piece
of mine was accepted at the Theatre-Francais just as I came to an end
of it. At the Theatre-Francais the influence of a first gentleman of
the bedchamber, or of a prince of the blood, would not be enough to
secure a turn of favor; the actors only make concessions to those who
threaten their self-love. If it is in your power to spread a report
that the jeune premier has the asthma, the leading lady a fistula
where you please, and the soubrette has foul breath, then your piece
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Essays of Travel by Robert Louis Stevenson: should be almost deafening, a blackbird in the lilacs, a nightingale
down the lane, so that you must stroll to hear it, and yet a little
farther, tree-tops populous with rooks.
Your house should not command much outlook; it should be set deep and
green, though upon rising ground, or, if possible, crowning a knoll,
for the sake of drainage. Yet it must be open to the east, or you
will miss the sunrise; sunset occurring so much later, you can go up
a few steps and look the other way. A house of more than two stories
is a mere barrack; indeed the ideal is of one story, raised upon
cellars. If the rooms are large, the house may be small: a single
room, lofty, spacious, and lightsome, is more palatial than a
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Little Britain by Washington Irving: there was no keeping down the butcher. His sturdy nature
would break through all their glozings. He had a hearty vulgar
good-humor that was irrepressible. His very jokes made his
sensitive daughters shudder; and he persisted in wearing his
blue cotton coat of a morning, dining at two o'clock, and
having a "bit of sausage with his tea."
He was doomed, however, to share the unpopularity of his
family. He found his old comrades gradually growing cold and
civil to him; no longer laughing at his jokes; and now and then
throwing out a fling at "some people," and a hint about "quality
binding." This both nettled and perplexed the honest butcher;
|
