|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Padre Ignacio by Owen Wister:
whisper too light, too deep, for Gaston's heedless ear.
"Why," the young man pursued in a spirit that was but half levity,
"though I yield often to temptation, at times I have resisted it, and
here I should miss the very chance to resist. Your garden could never be
Eden for me, because temptation is absent from it."
"Absent!" Still lighter, still deeper, was this whisper that the Padre
"I must find life," exclaimed Gaston, "and my fortune at the mines, I
hope. I am not a bad fellow, Father. You can easily guess all the things
I do. I have never, to my knowledge, harmed any one. I didn't even try to
kill my adversary in an affair of honor. I gave him a mere flesh-wound,
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Muse of the Department by Honore de Balzac:
copious, not to say splendid, and the lady took care not to talk too
much while it was proceeding. This lack of conversation betrayed
Gatien's indiscretion. Etienne tried to regain his footing, but all
Dinah's advances were directed to Bianchon.
However, half-way through the evening, the Baroness was gracious to
Lousteau again. Have you never observed what great meanness may be
committed for small ends? Thus the haughty Dinah, who would not
sacrifice herself for a fool, who in the depths of the country led
such a wretched life of struggles, of suppressed rebellion, of
unuttered poetry, who to get away from Lousteau had climbed the
highest and steepest peak of her scorn, and who would not have come
The Muse of the Department
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Lock and Key Library by Julian Hawthorne, Ed.:
strode the giant Foot. And, as strode the Foot, so with it came,
like the sound of its tread, a roll of muttered thunder.
I recoiled, with a cry that rang loud through the lurid air.
"Courage!" said the voice of Ayesha. "Trembling soul, yield not an
inch to the demon!"
At the charm, the wonderful charm, in the tone of the Veiled
Woman's voice, my will seemed to take a force more sublime than its
own. I folded my arms on my breast, and stood as if rooted to the
spot, confronting the column of smoke and the stride of the giant
Foot. And the Foot halted, mute.
Again, in the momentary hush of that suspense, I heard a voice--it