|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Simple Soul by Gustave Flaubert:
table and they would sit down opposite each other, and eat their
dinner; she ate as little as possible, herself, to avoid any extra
expense, but would stuff him so with food that he would finally go to
sleep. At the first stroke of vespers, she would wake him up, brush
his trousers, tie his cravat and walk to church with him, leaning on
his arm with maternal pride.
His parents always told him to get something out of her, either a
package of brown sugar, or soap, or brandy, and sometimes even money.
He brought her his clothes to mend, and she accepted the task gladly,
because it meant another visit from him.
In August, his father took him on a coasting-vessel.
A Simple Soul
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Mad King by Edgar Rice Burroughs:
tongue. Men went wild with enthusiasm as the tall figure
rode slowly through the crowd toward the palace.
Von der Tann, grim and martial, found his lids damp with
the moisture of a great happiness. Even now with all the
proofs of reality about him, it seemed impossible that this
scene could be aught but the ephemeral vapors of a dream
--that Leopold of Lutha, the coward, the craven, could
have become in a single day the heroic figure that had
loomed so large upon the battlefield of Lustadt--the simple,
modest gentleman who received the plaudits of his subjects
with bowed head and humble mien.
The Mad King
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Poems of Goethe, Bowring, Tr. by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe:
difficulty that has deterred others from undertaking the task I
have set myself, and in which I do not pretend to do more than
attempt to give an idea of the minstrelsy of one so unrivalled,
by as truthful an interpretation of it as lies in my power.
The principles which have guided me on the present occasion are
the same as those followed in the translation of Schiller's
complete Poems that was published by me in 1851, namely, as
literal a rendering of the original as is consistent with good
English, and also a very strict adherence to the metre of the
original. Although translators usually allow themselves great
license in both these points, it appears to me that by so doing