| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Fables by Robert Louis Stevenson: indeed to be my son, I fear it will go ill with you; for I am
bitter poor in goods and bitter ugly in face, and I shall never get
me a wife if I live to the age of eagles."
"All this hate I come to remedy, my Father," said the Poor Thing;
"for we must go this night to the little isle of sheep, where our
fathers lie in the dead-cairn, and to-morrow to the Earl's Hall,
and there shall you find a wife by my providing."
So the man rose and put forth his boat at the time of the
sunsetting; and the Poor Thing sat in the prow, and the spray blew
through his bones like snow, and the wind whistled in his teeth,
and the boat dipped not with the weight of him.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Eugenie Grandet by Honore de Balzac: Charles rose, seized Pere Grandet, kissed him, turned pale, and left
the room. Eugenie looked at her father with admiration.
"Well, good-by, des Grassins; it is all in your hands. Decoy those
people as best you can; lead 'em by the nose."
The two diplomatists shook hands. The old cooper accompanied the
banker to the front door. Then, after closing it, he came back and
plunged into his armchair, saying to Nanon,--
"Get me some black-currant ratafia."
Too excited, however, to remain long in one place, he got up, looked
at the portrait of Monsieur de la Bertelliere, and began to sing,
doing what Nanon called his dancing steps,--
Eugenie Grandet |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Westward Ho! by Charles Kingsley: case," said the cunning old Philistine-slayer, as they went in
after the wounded man.
But hardly had they stumbled through the low doorway into the back-
kitchen when a fresh hubbub arose inside--more shouts for help.
Amyas ran forward breaking his head against the doorway, and
beheld, as soon as he could see for the flashes in his eyes, an old
acquaintance, held on each side by a sturdy sailor.
With one arm in the sleeve of his doublet, and the other in a not
over spotless shirt; holding up his hose with one hand, and with
the other a candle, whereby he had lighted himself to his own
confusion; foaming with rage, stood Mr. Evan Morgans, alias Father
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