| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Sylvie and Bruno by Lewis Carroll: 'voyage of discovery' among all the flowers; but there was no Baby to
be seen.
"What's become of Bruno?" I said, when we had completed our tour.
"He's down in the ditch there," said Sylvie, "amusing a young Frog."
I went down on my hands and knees to look for him, for I felt very
curious to know how young Frogs ought to be amused. After a minute's
search, I found him sitting at the edge of the ditch, by the side of
the little Frog, and looking rather disconsolate.
"How are you getting on, Bruno?" I said, nodding to him as he looked up.
"Ca'n't amuse it no more," Bruno answered, very dolefully, "'cause it
won't say what it would like to do next! I've showed it all the
 Sylvie and Bruno |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Padre Ignacio by Owen Wister: and black-haired, around the tinkling instrument that Felipe played; and
presiding over them were young Gaston and the pale Padre, walking up and
down the paths, beating time or singing now one part and now another. And
so it was that the wild cattle on the uplands would hear Trovatore hummed
by a passing vaquero, while the same melody was filling the streets of
the far-off world.
For three days Gaston Villere remained at Santa Ysabel del Mar; and
though not a word of restlessness came from him, his host could read San
Francisco and the gold-mines in his countenance. No, the young man could
not have stayed here for twenty years! And the Padre forbore urging his
guest to extend his visit.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Z. Marcas by Honore de Balzac: saveloy; we saw on a plate, with some crumbs of bread, the remains of
that too familiar delicacy. He was asleep; he did not wake till
eleven. He then set to work again on the copy he had begun the night
before, which was lying on the table.
On going downstairs we asked the price of that room, and were told
fifteen francs a month.
In the course of a few days, we were fully informed as to the mode of
life of Z. Marcas. He did copying, at so much a sheet no doubt, for a
law-writer who lived in the courtyard of the Sainte-Chapelle. He
worked half the night; after sleeping from six till ten, he began
again and wrote till three. Then he went out to take the copy home
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