|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Pierre Grassou by Honore de Balzac:
the grounds on the nankeen-colored paths, all raked as they should be
for the steps of so great a man. The trees themselves looked brushed
and combed, and the lawns had just been mown. The pure country air
wafted to the nostrils a most enticing smell of cooking. All things
about the mansion seemed to say:
"We have a great artist among us."
Little old Vervelle himself rolled like an apple through his park, the
daughter meandered like an eel, the mother followed with dignified
step. These three beings never let go for one moment of Pierre Grassou
for seven hours. After dinner, the length of which equalled its
magnificence, Monsieur and Madame Vervelle reached the moment of their
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Mosses From An Old Manse by Nathaniel Hawthorne:
Copley, the celebrated painter, then a young man and a resident
of Boston, came one day to visit Drowne; for he had recognized so
much of moderate ability in the carver as to induce him, in the
dearth of professional sympathy, to cultivate his acquaintance.
On entering the shop, the artist glanced at the inflexible image
of king, commander, dame, and allegory, that stood around, on the
best of which might have been bestowed the questionable praise
that it looked as if a living man had here been changed to wood,
and that not only the physical, but the intellectual and
spiritual part, partook of the stolid transformation. But in not
a single instance did it seem as if the wood were imbibing the
Mosses From An Old Manse
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Altar of the Dead by Henry James:
he's not one of mine. Mine are only the Dead who died possessed of
me. They're mine in death because they were mine in life."
"HE was yours in life then, even if for a while he ceased to be.
If you forgave him you went back to him. Those whom we've once
loved - "
"Are those who can hurt us most," Stransom broke in.
"Ah it's not true - you've NOT forgiven him!" she wailed with a
passion that startled him.
He looked at her as never yet. "What was it he did to you?"
"Everything!" Then abruptly she put out her hand in farewell.