| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg by Mark Twain: it, give him the money, and ask no further questions, for he is
certainly the right man.
"But if you shall prefer a public inquiry, then publish this present
writing in the local paper--with these instructions added, to wit:
Thirty days from now, let the candidate appear at the town-hall at
eight in the evening (Friday), and hand his remark, in a sealed
envelope, to the Rev. Mr. Burgess (if he will be kind enough to
act); and let Mr. Burgess there and then destroy the seals of the
sack, open it, and see if the remark is correct: if correct, let
the money be delivered, with my sincere gratitude, to my benefactor
thus identified."
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Gambara by Honore de Balzac: long as the musician persisted in trying to explain it in his present
demented state. His wife and the Count were equally divided between
the music and their surprise at this hundred-voiced instrument, inside
which a stranger might have fancied an invisible chorus of girls were
hidden, so closely did some of the tones resemble the human voice; and
they dared not express their ideas by a look or a word. Marianna's
face was lighted up by a radiant beam of hope which revived the
glories of her youth. This renascence of beauty, co-existent with the
luminous glow of her husband's genius, cast a shade of regret on the
Count's exquisite pleasure in this mysterious hour.
"You are our good genius!" whispered Marianna. "I am tempted to
Gambara |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Juana by Honore de Balzac: superiority. But if by chance she seems really imposing to him, he
feels the need of foisting faults upon her. After that, between man
and wife, trifles increase and grow till they swell to Alps.
But Juana, patient and without pride, gentle and without that
bitterness which women know so well how to cast into their submission,
left Diard no chance for planned ill-humor. Besides, she was one of
those noble creatures to whom it is impossible to speak
disrespectfully; her glance, in which her life, saintly and pure,
shone out, had the weight of a fascination. Diard, embarrassed at
first, then annoyed, ended by feeling that such high virtue was a yoke
upon him. The goodness of his wife gave him no violent emotions, and
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