| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from An Unsocial Socialist by George Bernard Shaw: "Not altogether," he said smiling. "But you understand that I am
what is called a gentleman."
"No. The gentlemen with whom I am conversant do not dress as you
dress, nor speak as you speak, nor act as you act."
He looked at her, and her countenance confirmed the hostility of
her tone. He instantly relapsed into an aggravated phase of
Smilash.
"I will no longer attempt to set myself up as a gentleman," he
said. "I am a common man, and your ladyship's hi recognizes me as
such and is not to be deceived. But don't go for to say that I am
not candid when I am as candid as ever you will let me be. What
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from An Old Maid by Honore de Balzac: prayer, the Abbe de Sponde had periods of abstraction which the
habitues of the house regarded as absent-mindedness. In any case, he
talked little; but his silence was affable and benevolent. He was a
man of great height and spare, with grave and solemn manners, though
his face expressed all gentle sentiments and an inward calm; while his
mere presence carried with it a sacred authority. He was very fond of
the Voltairean chevalier. Those two majestic relics of the nobility
and clergy, though of very different habits and morals, recognized
each other by their generous traits. Besides, the chevalier was as
unctuous with the abbe as he was paternal with the grisettes.
Some persons may fancy that Mademoiselle Cormon used every means to
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Margret Howth: A Story of To-day by Rebecca Harding Davis: higher life was starved, thwarted. Could it be that the blood of
these her brothers called against HER from the ground? No wonder
that the huckster-girl sobbed, she thought, or talked heresy. It
was not an easy thing to see a mother drink herself into the
grave. And yet--was she to blame? Her Virginian blood was cool,
high-bred; she had learned conservatism in her cradle. Her life
in the West had not yet quickened her pulse. So she put aside
whatever social mystery or wrong faced her in this girl, just as
you or I would have done. She had her own pain to bear. Was she
her brother's keeper? It was true, there was wrong; this woman's
soul lay shattered by it; it was the fault of her blood, of her
Margret Howth: A Story of To-day |
