| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Lemorne Versus Huell by Elizabeth Drew Stoddard: The clock on the mantle struck two.
"A thousand dollars for every year of my life," she said. "You
and I, Uxbridge, know the value and beauty of money.
"Yes, there is beauty in money, and"--looking at me--"beauty
without it."
"The striking of the clock," I soliloquized, "proves that this
scene is not a phantasm."
"Margaret is fatigued," he said, rising. "May I come to-morrow?"
"It is my part only," replied Aunt Eliza, "to see that she is,
or is not, Cinderella."
"If you have ever thought of me, aunt, as an individual, you must
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Howard Pyle's Book of Pirates by Howard Pyle: flash of light, and even as he slammed to the door behind him
there was an instant peal of thunder, heavy as though a great
weight had been dropped upon the roof of the sky, so that the
doors and windows of the cabin rattled.
IV
Then Tom Chist crept to bed, trembling, shuddering, bathed in
sweat, his heart beating like a trip hammer, and his brain dizzy
from that long, terror-inspired race through the soft sand in
which he had striven to outstrip he knew not what pursuing
horror.
For a long, long time he lay awake, trembling and chattering with
Howard Pyle's Book of Pirates |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Modeste Mignon by Honore de Balzac: admit that a young girl who should make herself the handmaid of a
man of genius, his equal through comprehension, and should piously
worship him till death, like one of those divine figures sketched
by the masters on the shutters of their mystic shrines, and who,
when Germany lost him, should have retired to some solitude away
from men, like the friend of Lord Bolingbroke,--let us admit, I
say, that the young girl would have lived forever, inlaid in the
glory of the poet as Mary Magdalene in the cross and triumph of
our Lord. If that is sublime, what say you to the reverse of the
picture? As I am neither Goethe nor Lord Byron, the colossi of
poetry and egotism, but simply the author of a few esteemed
Modeste Mignon |
