| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions by Edwin A. Abbot: to honour their parents; with us -- next to the Circles,
who are the chief object of universal homage -- a man is taught
to honour his Grandson, if he has one; or, if not, his Son.
By "honour", however, is by no means meant "indulgence",
but a reverent regard for their highest interests: and the Circles
teach that the duty of fathers is to subordinate their own interests
to those of posterity, thereby advancing the welfare of
the whole State as well as that of their own immediate descendants.
The weak point in the system of the Circles -- if a humble Square
may venture to speak of anything Circular as containing
any element of weakness -- appears to me to be found
Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Christ in Flanders by Honore de Balzac: Flanders. First among them was a young knight with two beautiful
greyhounds; his long hair flowed from beneath a jeweled cap; he
clanked his gilded spurs, curled the ends of his moustache from time
to time with a swaggering grace, and looked round disdainfully on the
rest of the crew. A high-born damsel, with a falcon on her wrist, only
spoke with her mother or with a churchman of high rank, who was
evidently a relation. All these persons made a great deal of noise,
and talked among themselves as though there were no one else in the
boat; yet close beside them sat a man of great importance in the
district, a stout burgher of Bruges, wrapped about with a vast cloak.
His servant, armed to the teeth, had set down a couple of bags filled
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from At the Sign of the Cat & Racket by Honore de Balzac: when, for the third time in their lives, they had been of antagonistic
opinions, had shown itself in a terrible form. Finally, at half-past
four in the afternoon, Augustine, pale, trembling, and with red eyes,
was haled before her father and mother. The poor child artlessly
related the too brief tale of her love. Reassured by a speech from her
father, who promised to listen to her in silence, she gathered courage
as she pronounced to her parents the name of Theodore de Sommervieux,
with a mischievous little emphasis on the aristocratic /de/. And
yielding to the unknown charm of talking of her feelings, she was
brave enough to declare with innocent decision that she loved Monsieur
de Sommervieux, that she had written to him, and she added, with tears
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