| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Chronicles of the Canongate by Walter Scott: plunged into distress. He put it to every generous bosom--to
every better feeling--to say what consolation was it to old age
to be told that you might have made provision at a time which had
been neglected--(loud cheers)--and to find it objected, that if
you had pleased you might have been wealthy. He had hitherto
been speaking of what, in theatrical language, was called STARS;
but they were sometimes falling ones. There was another class of
sufferers naturally and necessarily connected with the theatre,
without whom it was impossible to go on. The sailors have a
saying, Every man cannot be a boatswain. If there must be a
great actor to act Hamlet, there must also be people to act
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Secret Adversary by Agatha Christie: "Certainly not."
"Oh, very well, my dear boy. But I can assure you that that sort
of thing might touch the heart of an elderly spinster, and she
might adopt you, and then there would be no need for you to be a
young adventurer at all."
"I don't want to be adopted."
"I forgot you had a prejudice against it. I was only ragging
you! The papers are full up to the brim with that type of thing.
Now listen--how's this? 'Two young adventurers for hire. Willing
to do anything, go anywhere. Pay must be good.' (We might as
well make that clear from the start.) Then we might add: 'No
Secret Adversary |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Another Study of Woman by Honore de Balzac: aptitudes of a statesman; still it might yet be a question whether he
would prove to be a solid politician, or had merely been moulded in
the fire of circumstance. This question had just been asked by a man
whom he had made a prefet, a man of wit and observation, who had for a
long time been a journalist, and who admired de Marsay without
infusing into his admiration that dash of acrid criticism by which, in
Paris, one superior man excuses himself from admiring another.
"Was there ever," said he, "in your former life, any event, any
thought or wish which told you what your vocation was?" asked Emile
Blondet; "for we all, like Newton, have our apple, which falls and
leads us to the spot where our faculties develop----"
|
