| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Village Rector by Honore de Balzac: the men whom you employ, even the most insignificant, ought to be
thoroughly satisfactory to you. If you don't like him don't take
him; but if he suits you, my dear child, I beg you to cure him of
his ill-disguised ambition. Make him take to a peaceful, happy,
rural life, where true beneficence is perpetually exercised; where
the capacities of great and strong souls find continual exercise,
and they themselves discover daily fresh sources of admiration in
the works of Nature, and in real ameliorations, real progress, an
occupation worthy of any man.
I am not oblivious of the fact that great ideas give birth to
great actions; but as those ideas are necessarily few and far
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Michael Strogoff by Jules Verne: count of the darkness, Michael could not see them, yet he
heard distinctly their words.
This is what he heard, and what caused him some sur-
prise: "Are you coming back, blockhead?"
"You shall have a taste of the knout at the next stage."
"Do you hear, you devil's postillion! Hullo! Below!"
"This is how a carriage takes you in this country!"
"Yes, this is what you call a telga!"
"Oh, that abominable driver! He goes on and does not
appear to have discovered that he has left us behind!"
"To deceive me, too! Me, an honorable Englishman!
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Othello by William Shakespeare: Iago. Why how now Generall? No more of that
Oth. Auant, be gone: Thou hast set me on the Racke:
I sweare 'tis better to be much abus'd,
Then but to know't a little
Iago. How now, my Lord?
Oth. What sense had I, in her stolne houres of Lust?
I saw't not, thought it not: it harm'd not me:
I slept the next night well, fed well, was free, and merrie.
I found not Cassio's kisses on her Lippes:
He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolne,
Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all
Othello |
