| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Woodlanders by Thomas Hardy: passions of your early girl-hood. I have not outgrown mine."
"I beg your pardon," said she, with vibrations of strong feeling
in her words. "I have been placed in a position which hinders
such outgrowings. Besides, I don't believe that the genuine
subjects of emotion do outgrow them; I believe that the older such
people get the worse they are. Possibly at ninety or a hundred
they may feel they are cured; but a mere threescore and ten won't
do it--at least for me."
He gazed at her in undisguised admiration. Here was a soul of
souls!
"Mrs. Charmond, you speak truly," he exclaimed. "But you speak
The Woodlanders |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Daughter of Eve by Honore de Balzac: to return in a few days, a month earlier than usual, brought back, of
course, by her unconquerable desire to see Nathan, who felt that he
could not be short of money at a time when he renewed that assiduous
life.
Correspondence, in which the pen is always bolder than speech, and
thought, wreathing itself with flowers, allows itself to be seen
without disguise, and brought the countess to the highest pitch of
enthusiasm. She believed she saw in Raoul one of the noblest spirits
of the epoch, a delicate but misjudged heart without a stain and
worthy of adoration; she saw him advancing with a brave hand to grasp
the sceptre of power. Soon that speech so beautiful in love would echo
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton: down in a moment. We were just admiring these marvellous
flowers, which will surprise her when she
reappears."
Winsett remained on his feet. "I'm afraid I must be
off. Please tell Madame Olenska that we shall all feel
lost when she abandons our street. This house has been
an oasis."
"Ah, but she won't abandon YOU. Poetry and art are
the breath of life to her. It IS poetry you write, Mr.
Winsett?"
"Well, no; but I sometimes read it," said Winsett,
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