| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Glimpses of the Moon by Edith Wharton: Streffy! I forbid you to shout like that--all the gondolas are
stopping to look!"
"How can I help it?" He rocked backward and forward in his
chair. "'If you marry,' she says: 'Streffy, what have you
decided to do if you suddenly become a raving maniac?'"
"I said no such thing. If your uncle and your cousin died,
you'd marry to-morrow; you know you would."
"Oh, now you're talking business." He folded his long arms and
leaned over the balcony, looking down at the dusky ripples
streaked with fire. "In that case I should say: 'Susan, my
dear--Susan--now that by the merciful intervention of Providence
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Twenty Years After by Alexandre Dumas: start on our journey. Halloo, Grimaud!"
Grimaud appeared.
"Well, Grimaud, my friend, have you seen anything?" asked
the Gascon.
"Nothing!" replied Grimaud.
"Those idiots!" cried Porthos, "they have not even pursued
us. Oh! if we had been in their place!"
"Yes, they are wrong," said D'Artagnan. "I would willingly
have said two words to Mordaunt in this little desert. It is
an excellent spot for bringing down a man in proper style."
"I think, decidedly," observed Aramis, "gentlemen, that the
Twenty Years After |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Muse of the Department by Honore de Balzac: by his wife, whose right arm was perfectly motionless. Everybody made
way in silence for this couple, whom we all watched with some
excitement. Imagine a picture by Murillo come to life. Under black and
hollow brows the man's eyes were like a fixed blaze; his face looked
dried up, his bald skull was red, and his frame was a terror to
behold, he was so emaciated. His wife--no, you cannot imagine her. Her
figure had the supple swing for which the Spaniards created the word
/meneho/; though pale, she was still beautiful; her complexion was
dazzlingly fair--a rare thing in a Spaniard; and her gaze, full of the
Spanish sun, fell on you like a stream of melted lead.
" 'Madame,' said I to her, towards the end of the evening, 'what
The Muse of the Department |
