| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Snow Image by Nathaniel Hawthorne: fore-glimmering of brightness from the sun-gilt skies upon their
gilded weather-cocks. The tavern was astir, and the figure of the
old, smoke-dried stage-agent, cigar in mouth, was seen beneath
the stoop. Old Graylock was glorified with a golden cloud upon
his head. Scattered likewise over the breasts of the surrounding
mountains, there were heaps of hoary mist, in fantastic shapes,
some of them far down into the valley, others high up towards the
summits, and still others, of the same family of mist or cloud,
hovering in the gold radiance of the upper atmosphere. Stepping
from one to another of the clouds that rested on the hills, and
thence to the loftier brotherhood that sailed in air, it seemed
The Snow Image |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Country of the Pointed Firs by Sarah Orne Jewett: "I felt she saw us coming, and knew us a great way off; yes,
I seemed to feel it within me," said our friend, laying down her
knitting. "I kept my seat, and took the bo't inshore without
saying a word; there was a short channel that I was sure Mr.
Dimmick wasn't acquainted with, and the tide was very low. She
never came out to warn us off nor anything, and I thought, as I
hauled the bo't up on a wave and let the Reverend Mr. Dimmick step
out, that it was somethin' gained to be safe ashore. There was a
little smoke out o' the chimney o' Joanna's house, and it did look
sort of homelike and pleasant with wild mornin'-glory vines trained
up; an' there was a plot o' flowers under the front window,
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Chouans by Honore de Balzac: obscurity prevented the eyes of the silent travellers from questioning
each other. The sighing of the wind, the rustling of the trees, the
measured step of the escort, gave that almost solemn character to the
scene which quickens the pulses. Mademoiselle de Verneuil could not
long try in vain to discover the reason of this change. The
recollection of Corentin came to her like a flash, and reminded her
suddenly of her real destiny. For the first time since the morning she
reflected seriously on her position. Until then she had yielded
herself up to the delight of loving, without a thought of the past or
of the future. Unable to bear the agony of her mind, she sought, with
the patience of love, to obtain a look from the young man's eyes, and
The Chouans |
