| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Distinguished Provincial at Paris by Honore de Balzac: country lad who never leaves the Latin Quarter; devoting himself
wholly to his work, with thoughts of the future always before him; who
finds Flicoteaux's ordinary luxurious after the simple home-fare; and
strolls for recreation along the alleys of the Luxembourg, the blood
surging back to his heart as he gives timid side glances to the pretty
women. But this could not last. Lucien, with his poetic temperament
and boundless longings, could not withstand the temptations held out
by the play-bills.
The Theatre-Francais, the Vaudeville, the Varietes, the Opera-Comique
relieved him of some sixty francs, although he always went to the pit.
What student could deny himself the pleasure of seeing Talma in one of
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Jungle by Upton Sinclair: it is the music which changes the place from the rear room of a saloon
in back of the yards to a fairy place, a wonderland, a little comer of
the high mansions of the sky.
The little person who leads this trio is an inspired man. His fiddle is
out of tune, and there is no rosin on his bow, but still he is an inspired
man--the hands of the muses have been laid upon him. He plays like one
possessed by a demon, by a whole horde of demons. You can feel them in
the air round about him, capering frenetically; with their invisible feet
they set the pace, and the hair of the leader of the orchestra rises on end,
and his eyeballs start from their sockets, as he toils to keep up with them.
Tamoszius Kuszleika is his name, and he has taught himself to play the
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Old Indian Legends by Zitkala-Sa: all the while. The young man, stepping downward from limb to limb,
hearing the low muttering, said: "Iktomi, I cannot hear what you
say!"
"Oh, my friend, I was only talking of your big heart."
Again stooping over the arrow Iktomi continued his repetition
of charm words. "Grow fast, grow fast to the bark of the tree," he
whispered. Still the young man moved slowly downward. Suddenly
dropping the arrow and standing erect, Iktomi said aloud: "Grow
fast to the bark of the tree!" Before the brave could leap from
the tree he became tight-grown to the bark.
"Ah! ha!" laughed the bad Iktomi. "I have the magic arrow!
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