| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Simple Soul by Gustave Flaubert: her gently; she must keep up for her son and also for the other one,
for "her memory."
"Her memory!" replied Madame Aubain, as if she were just awakening,
"Oh! yes, yes, you do not forget her!" This was an allusion to the
cemetery where she had been expressly forbidden to go
But Felicite went there every day. At four o'clock exactly, she would
go through the town, climb the hill, open the gate and arrive at
Virginia's tomb. It was a small column of pink marble with a flat
stone at its base, and it was surrounded by a little plot enclosed by
chains. The flower-beds were bright with blossoms. Felicite watered
their leaves, renewed the gravel, and knelt on the ground in order to
A Simple Soul |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Prince of Bohemia by Honore de Balzac: telling me those things! What interest lay in those few words! You
have taken thought for that thing belonging to you called
Claudine? /This/ imbecile would never have opened my eyes; he
thinks that everything I do is right; and besides, he is much too
humdrum, too matter-of-fact to have any feeling for the beautiful.
" 'Tuesday is very slow of coming for my impatient mind! On
Tuesday I shall be with you for several hours. Ah! when it comes I
will try to think that the hours are months, that it will be so
always. I am living in hope of that morning now, as I shall live
upon the memory of it afterwards. Hope is memory that craves; and
recollection, memory sated. What a beautiful life within life
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Princess of Parms by Edgar Rice Burroughs: "If we make it, my chieftain, the debt of Helium will be
a mighty one; greater than she can ever pay you; and should
we not make it," she continued, "the debt is no less, though
Helium will never know, for you have saved the last of our
line from worse than death."
I did not answer, but instead reached to my side and
pressed the little fingers of her I loved where they clung to
me for support, and then, in unbroken silence, we sped over
the yellow, moonlit moss; each of us occupied with his own
thoughts. For my part I could not be other than joyful had I
tried, with Dejah Thoris' warm body pressed close to mine,
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