|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Albert Savarus by Honore de Balzac:
would say of Monsieur de Watteville, "He has a noble soul! He
perceived from the first days of his married life that he would never
be his wife's master, so he threw himself into a mechanical occupation
and good living."
The house of the Rupts was not devoid of a certain magnificence worthy
of Louis XIV., and bore traces of the nobility of the two families who
had mingled in 1815. The chandeliers of glass cut in the shape of
leaves, the brocades, the damask, the carpets, the gilt furniture,
were all in harmony with the old liveries and the old servants. Though
served in blackened family plate, round a looking-glass tray furnished
with Dresden china, the food was exquisite. The wines selected by
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Island Nights' Entertainments by Robert Louis Stevenson:
from the reef, and from a distance, among the woods and houses,
many pretty sounds of men and children. It did me good to breathe
free air; it did me good to be done with the captain and see,
instead, the creature at my side. I felt for all the world as
though she were some girl at home in the Old Country, and,
forgetting myself for the minute, took her hand to walk with. Her
fingers nestled into mine, I heard her breathe deep and quick, and
all at once she caught my hand to her face and pressed it there.
"You good!" she cried, and ran ahead of me, and stopped and looked
back and smiled, and ran ahead of me again, thus guiding me through
the edge of the bush, and by a quiet way to my own house.
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Z. Marcas by Honore de Balzac:
We read with our ears open. And in the perfect silence of our attic
rooms, we heard the even, dull sound of a sleeping man breathing.
"He is asleep," said I to Juste, noticing this fact.
"At seven o'clock!" replied the Doctor.
This was the name by which I called Juste, and he called me the Keeper
of the Seals.
"A man must be wretched indeed to sleep as much as our neighbor!"
cried I, jumping on to the chest of drawers with a knife in my hand,
to which a corkscrew was attached.
I made a round hole at the top of the partition, about as big as a
five-sou piece. I had forgotten that there would be no light in the