| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Deputy of Arcis by Honore de Balzac: We dined, not at the table-d'hote, but in private, and the dinner
seemed very long on account of the silent preoccupation of the
marquis, and the slowness with which, owing to his loss of teeth, he
swallowed his food.
At seven o'clock we went to the notary's office; but as it is now two
o'clock in the morning, and I am heavy with sleep, I shall put off
till to-morrow an account of what happened there.
May 4, 5 A.M.
I reckoned on peaceful slumbers, embellished by dreams. On the
contrary, I did not sleep an hour, and I have waked up stung to the
heart by an odious thought. But before I transmit that thought to you,
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Letters of Robert Louis Stevenson by Robert Louis Stevenson: From morning to evening the great villainous-looking fellows are
either sleeping off the last debauch, or hulking about the cove 'in
the horrors.' The cave is deep, high, and airy, and might be made
comfortable enough. But they just live among heaped boulders, damp
with continual droppings from above, with no more furniture than
two or three tin pans, a truss of rotten straw, and a few ragged
cloaks. In winter the surf bursts into the mouth and often forces
them to abandon it.
An EMEUTE of disappointed fishers was feared, and two ships of war
are in the bay to render assistance to the municipal authorities.
This is the ides; and, to all intents and purposes, said ides are
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Message by Honore de Balzac: locks of scanty gray hair; as to character--an incredible mixture
of homely sense and sheer silliness; of a rich man's overbearing
ways, and a total lack of manners; just the kind of husband who
is almost entirely led by his wife, yet imagines himself to be
the master; apt to domineer in trifles, and to let more important
things slip past unheeded--there you have the man!
But the Countess! Ah, how sharp and startling the contrast
between husband and wife! The Countess was a little woman, with a
flat, graceful figure and enchanting shape; so fragile, so dainty
was she, that you would have feared to break some bone if you so
much as touched her. She wore a white muslin dress, a rose-
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