| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Christ in Flanders by Honore de Balzac: of vision said to thee in a glance, 'Thou shalt perish ingloriously,
because thou hast fallen away, because thou hast broken the vows of
thy maidenhood. The angel with peace written on her forehead, who
should have shed light and joy along her path, has been a Messalina,
delighting in the circus, in debauchery, and abuse of power. The days
of thy virginity cannot return; henceforward thou shalt be subject to
a master. Thy hour has come; the hand of death is upon thee. Thy heirs
believe that thou art rich; they will kill thee and find nothing. Yet
try at least to fling away this raiment no longer in fashion; be once
more as in the days of old!--Nay, thou art dead, and by thy own deed!'
"Is not this thy story?" so I ended. "Decrepit, toothless, shivering
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia by Samuel Johnson: suggested; when one messenger returned unsuccessful, another was
despatched to a different quarter.
Two months had now passed, and of Pekuah nothing had been heard;
the hopes which they had endeavoured to raise in each other grew
more languid; and the Princess, when she saw nothing more to be
tried, sunk down inconsolable in hopeless dejection. A thousand
times she reproached herself with the easy compliance by which she
permitted her favourite to stay behind her. "Had not my fondness,"
said she, "lessened my authority, Pekuah had not dared to talk of
her terrors. She ought to have feared me more than spectres. A
severe look would have overpowered her; a peremptory command would
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Scenes from a Courtesan's Life by Honore de Balzac: that the young men who chose to be offended or puzzled by his return
to Paris and his unaccountable good fortune were enchanted whenever
they could do him an ill turn. He knew that he had many enemies, and
was well aware of those hostile feelings among his friends. The Abbe,
indeed, took admirable care of his adopted son, putting him on his
guard against the treachery of the world and the fatal imprudence of
youth. Lucien was expected to tell, and did in fact tell the Abbe each
evening, every trivial incident of the day. Thanks to his Mentor's
advice, he put the keenest curiosity--the curiosity of the world--off
the scent. Entrenched in the gravity of an Englishman, and fortified
by the redoubts cast up by diplomatic circumspection, he never gave
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