| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Eugenie Grandet by Honore de Balzac: little revenue of a hundred crowns or thereabouts, which Grandet loved
to see her amass. Was it not putting his money from one strong-box to
another, and, as it were, training the parsimony of his heiress? from
whom he sometimes demanded an account of her treasure (formerly
increased by the gifts of the Bertellieres), saying: "It is to be your
marriage dozen."
The "marriage dozen" is an old custom sacredly preserved and still in
force in many parts of central France. In Berry and in Anjou, when a
young girl marries, her family, or that of the husband, must give her
a purse, in which they place, according to their means, twelve pieces,
or twelve dozen pieces, or twelve hundred pieces of gold. The poorest
 Eugenie Grandet |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad: they kept wrapped in leaves, and now and then swallowed
a piece of, but so small that it seemed done more for the looks
of the thing than for any serious purpose of sustenance.
Why in the name of all the gnawing devils of hunger they didn't
go for us--they were thirty to five--and have a good tuck-in
for once, amazes me now when I think of it. They were big
powerful men, with not much capacity to weigh the consequences,
with courage, with strength, even yet, though their skins
were no longer glossy and their muscles no longer hard.
And I saw that something restraining, one of those human
secrets that baffle probability, had come into play there.
 Heart of Darkness |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Fisherman's Luck by Henry van Dyke: bed and a convenient storehouse for nuts and acorns. The sportive
otters have a toboggan slide in front of their residence; and the
moose in winter make a "yard," where they can take exercise
comfortably and find shelter for sleep. But there is one thing
lacking in all these various dwellings,--a fireplace.
Man is the only creature that dares to light a fire and to live with
it. The reason? Because he alone has learned how to put it out.
It is true that two of his humbler friends have been converted to
fire-worship. The dog and the cat, being half-humanized, have begun
to love the fire. I suppose that a cat seldom comes so near to
feeling a true sense of affection as when she has finished her
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