| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Several Works by Edgar Allan Poe: image (which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to
sustain its role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was
seen to be convulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder
either of terror or distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened
with rage.
"Who dares,"--he demanded hoarsely of the courtiers who stood
near him--"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery?
Seize him and unmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at
sunrise, from the battlements!"
It was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the
Prince Prospero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Elizabeth and her German Garden by Marie Annette Beauchamp: they are the embodiment of alert cheerfulness and tidy grace,
and next to a hyacinth look like a wholesome, freshly tubbed young
girl beside a stout lady whose every movement weighs down the air
with patchouli. Their faint, delicate scent is refinement itself;
and is there anything in the world more charming than the sprightly
way they hold up their little faces to the sun. I have heard them
called bold and flaunting, but to me they seem modest grace itself,
only always on the alert to enjoy life as <109> much as they can and not
afraid of looking the sun or anything else above them in the face.
On the grass there are two beds of them carpeted with forget-me-nots;
and in the grass, in scattered groups, are daffodils and narcissus.
Elizabeth and her German Garden |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Chouans by Honore de Balzac: Mademoiselle de Verneuil, whom he led to the table with an air of
self-conceit that was nevertheless courteous. The devil had not
allowed that hour which had elapsed since the lady's arrival to be
wasted. With Francine's assistance, Mademoiselle de Verneuil had armed
herself with a travelling-dress more dangerous, perhaps, than any
ball-room attire. Its simplicity had precisely that attraction which
comes of the skill with which a woman, handsome enough to wear no
ornaments, reduces her dress to the position of a secondary charm. She
wore a green gown, elegantly cut, the jacket of which, braided and
frogged, defined her figure in a manner that was hardly suitable for a
young girl, allowing her supple waist and rounded bust and graceful
The Chouans |
