| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Men of Iron by Howard Pyle: of his impulsive youth--more largely of his romantic training in
the artificial code of French chivalry. He felt that the battle
was his, and so he gave his enemy these three chances to recover,
as some chevalier or knight- errant of romance might have done,
instead of pushing the combat to a mercifully speedy end-- and
his foolish generosity cost him dear.
In the momentary pause that had thus stirred the Earl of
Mackworth to a sudden outbreak, the Earl of Alban sat upon his
panting, sweating war- horse, facing his powerful young enemy at
about twelve paces distant. He sat as still as a rock, holding
his gisarm poised in front of him. He had, as the Earl of
Men of Iron |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Rise and Fall of Cesar Birotteau by Honore de Balzac: "You turn my brain with your projects," said Constance. "I am all
mixed up. Besides, Birotteau, I'm asleep."
"Good-day," replied the husband. "Just listen; I say good-day because
it is morning, Mimi. Ah! there she is off, the dear child. Yes! you
shall be rich, /richissime/, or I'll renounce my name of Cesar!"
A few moments later Constance and Cesar were peacefully snoring.
II
A glance rapidly thrown over the past life of this household will
strengthen the ideas which ought to have been suggested by the
friendly altercation of the two personages in this scene. While
picturing the manners and customs of retail shopkeepers, this sketch
Rise and Fall of Cesar Birotteau |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie: Thus it came about that, three days later, I descended from the
train at Styles St. Mary, an absurd little station, with no
apparent reason for existence, perched up in the midst of green
fields and country lanes. John Cavendish was waiting on the
platform, and piloted me out to the car.
"Got a drop or two of petrol still, you see," he remarked.
"Mainly owing to the mater's activities."
The village of Styles St. Mary was situated about two miles from
the little station, and Styles Court lay a mile the other side of
it. It was a still, warm day in early July. As one looked out
over the flat Essex country, lying so green and peaceful under
The Mysterious Affair at Styles |
