| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Maitre Cornelius by Honore de Balzac: first, dragging the lady by the arm, but at that instant he was pulled
vigorously into the street, and his wife was torn from him by a
stranger. The terrible hunchback saw at once that he had fallen into a
trap that was cleverly prepared. Repenting himself for having slept,
he collected his whole strength, seized his wife once more by the
sleeve of her gown, and strove with his other hand to cling to the
gate of the church; but the ardor of love carried the day against
jealous fury. The young man took his mistress round the waist, and
carried her off so rapidly, with the strength of despair, that the
brocaded stuff of silk and gold tore noisily apart, and the sleeve
alone remained in the hand of the old man. A roar like that of a lion
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Sarrasine by Honore de Balzac: favor. Sarrasine cried aloud with pleasure. He saw before him at that
moment the ideal beauty whose perfections he had hitherto sought here
and there in nature, taking from one model, often of humble rank, the
rounded outline of a shapely leg, from another the contour of the
breast; from another her white shoulders; stealing the neck of that
young girl, the hands of this woman, and the polished knees of yonder
child, but never able to find beneath the cold skies of Paris the rich
and satisfying creations of ancient Greece. La Zambinella displayed in
her single person, intensely alive and delicate beyond words, all
those exquisite proportions of the female form which he had so
ardently longed to behold, and of which a sculptor is the most severe
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Confessio Amantis by John Gower: Of eny on, if sche be wys;
For love schal noght bere his pris
Be reson, whanne it passeth on.
So have I sen ful many on,
That were of love wel at ese,
Whiche after felle in gret desese
Thurgh wast of love, that thei spente
In sondri places wher thei wente.
Riht so, mi Sone, I axe of thee
If thou with Prodegalite 7790
Hast hier and ther thi love wasted.
Confessio Amantis |
