| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Lily of the Valley by Honore de Balzac: the first fever of the heart I wandered through the rooms, unable to
find mine Unknown, until at last I went home to bed, another man.
A new soul, a soul with rainbow wings, had burst its chrysalis.
Descending from the azure wastes where I had long admired her, my star
had come to me a woman, with undiminished lustre and purity. I loved,
knowing naught of love. How strange a thing, this first irruption of
the keenest human emotion in the heart of a man! I had seen pretty
women in other places, but none had made the slightest impression upon
me. Can there be an appointed hour, a conjunction of stars, a union of
circumstances, a certain woman among all others to awaken an exclusive
passion at the period of life when love includes the whole sex?
The Lily of the Valley |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus by L. Frank Baum: Blinkie seemed a little offended by the attention bestowed upon the
toy, and that she might not seem to approve the imitation cat she
walked to the corner of the hearth and sat down with a dignified air.
But Claus was delighted, and as soon as morning came he started out
and tramped through the snow, across the Valley and the plain, until
he came to a village. There, in a poor hut near the walls of the
beautiful palace of the Lord of Lerd, a little girl lay upon a
wretched cot, moaning with pain.
Claus approached the child and kissed her and comforted her, and then
he drew the toy cat from beneath his coat, where he had hidden it, and
placed it in her arms.
The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Margret Howth: A Story of To-day by Rebecca Harding Davis: oftenest in a low "Thank ye, Lois!"--for she sold cheaper to some
people than they did in the market.
Lois was Lois in town or country. Some subtile power lay in the
coarse, distorted body, in the pleading child's face, to rouse,
wherever they went, the same curious, kindly smile. Not, I
think, that dumb, pathetic eye, common to deformity, that cries,
"Have mercy upon me, O my friend, for the hand of God hath
touched me!"--a deeper, mightier charm, rather: a trust down in
the fouled fragments of her brain, even in the bitterest hour of
her bare life,--a faith faith in God, faith in her fellow-man,
faith in herself. No human soul refused to answer its summons.
Margret Howth: A Story of To-day |
