| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Alkahest by Honore de Balzac: past; and to man, the past is singularly like the future; tell him
what has been, and you seldom fail to show him what will be. It is
rare indeed that the picture of a locality where lives are lived does
not recall to some their dawning hopes, to others their wasted faith.
The comparison between a present which disappoints man's secret wishes
and a future which may realize them, is an inexhaustible source of
sadness or of placid content.
Thus, it is almost impossible not to feel a certain tender sensibility
over a picture of Flemish life, if the accessories are clearly given.
Why so? Perhaps, among other forms of existence, it offers the best
conclusion to man's uncertainties. It has its social festivities, its
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Lair of the White Worm by Bram Stoker: had seen looking over the trees with its enormous eyes of emerald-
green flickering like great lamps in a gale.
At last the explosive power, which was not yet exhausted, evidently
reached the main store of dynamite which had been lowered into the
worm hole. The result was appalling. The ground for far around
quivered and opened in long deep chasms, whose edges shook and fell
in, throwing up clouds of sand which fell back and hissed amongst
the rising water. The heavily built house shook to its foundations.
Great stones were thrown up as from a volcano, some of them, great
masses of hard stone, squared and grooved with implements wrought by
human hands, breaking up and splitting in mid air as though riven by
Lair of the White Worm |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Domestic Peace by Honore de Balzac: dancing, the flirtations, interests, petty rivalries, and scheming had
all reached the pitch of ardor which makes a young man exclaim
involuntarily, "A fine ball!"
"My sweet little angel," said Madame de Lansac to the Countess, "you
are now at an age when in my day I made many mistakes. Seeing you are
just now enduring a thousand deaths, it occurred to me that I might
give you some charitable advice. To go wrong at two-and-twenty means
spoiling your future; is it not tearing the gown you must wear? My
dear, it is not much later that we learn to go about in it without
crumpling it. Go on, sweetheart, making clever enemies, and friends
who have no sense of conduct, and you will see what a pleasant life
|
