| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Madame Firmiani by Honore de Balzac: their lexicon.
Turn to the right, and put the same question to that other man, who
belongs to the species Lounger. "Madame Firmiani?" he says; "yes, yes,
I know her well; I go to her parties; receives Wednesdays; highly
creditable house."--Madame Firmiani is metamorphosed into a house! but
the house is not a pile of stones architecturally superposed, of
course not, the word presents in Lounger's language an indescribable
idiom.--Here the Lounger, a spare man with an agreeable smile, a sayer
of pretty nothings with more acquired cleverness than native wit,
stoops to your ear and adds, with a shrewd glance: "I have never seen
Monsieur Firmiani. His social position is that of looking after
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Adventure by Jack London: caked with the unwashed dirt of years.
"Oh, is that you, Telepasse?" the white man queried genially. "You
tell 'm boys clear out, and you stop and talk along me."
"Him good fella boy," was the reply. "Him stop along."
"Well, what do you want?" Sheldon asked, striving to hide under
assumed carelessness the weakness of concession.
"That fella boy belong along me." The old chief pointed out
Gogoomy, whom Sheldon recognized.
"White Mary belong you too much no good," Telepasse went on. "Bang
'm head belong Gogoomy. Gogoomy all the same chief. Bimeby me
finish, Gogoomy big fella chief. White Mary bang 'm head. No
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Hidden Masterpiece by Honore de Balzac: porcelains, or touched with sparkling points the rough-grained texture
of ancient gold-brocaded curtains, flung in broad folds about the room
to serve the painter as models for his drapery. Anatomical casts in
plaster, fragments and torsos of antique goddesses amorously polished
by the kisses of centuries, jostled each other upon shelves and
brackets. Innumerable sketches, studies in the three crayons, in ink,
and in red chalk covered the walls from floor to ceiling; color-boxes,
bottles of oil and turpentine, easels and stools upset or standing at
right angles, left but a narrow pathway to the circle of light thrown
from the window in the roof, which fell full on the pale face of
Porbus and on the ivory skull of his singular visitor.
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