| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Soul of Man by Oscar Wilde: the keyhole. That is much worse. And what aggravates the mischief
is that the journalists who are most to blame are not the amusing
journalists who write for what are called Society papers. The harm
is done by the serious, thoughtful, earnest journalists, who
solemnly, as they are doing at present, will drag before the eyes
of the public some incident in the private life of a great
statesman, of a man who is a leader of political thought as he is a
creator of political force, and invite the public to discuss the
incident, to exercise authority in the matter, to give their views,
and not merely to give their views, but to carry them into action,
to dictate to the man upon all other points, to dictate to his
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Village Rector by Honore de Balzac: None of the windows, cased in wood and formerly adorned with carvings,
now destroyed by the action of the weather, had continued plumb; some
bobbed forward, others tipped backward, while a few seemed disposed to
fall apart; all had a compost of earth, brought from heaven knows
where, in the nooks and crannies hollowed by the rain, in which the
spring-tide brought forth fragile flowers, timid creeping plants, and
sparse herbage. Moss carpeted the roof and draped its supports. The
corner pillar, with its composite masonry of stone blocks mingled with
brick and pebbles, was alarming to the eye by reason of its curvature;
it seemed on the point of giving way under the weight of the house,
the gable of which overhung it by at least half a foot. The municipal
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Awakening & Selected Short Stories by Kate Chopin: thoroughly at home in the society of Creoles; never before had she
been thrown so intimately among them. There were only Creoles that
summer at Lebrun's. They all knew each other, and felt like one
large family, among whom existed the most amicable relations. A
characteristic which distinguished them and which impressed Mrs.
Pontellier most forcibly was their entire absence of prudery.
Their freedom of expression was at first incomprehensible to her,
though she had no difficulty in reconciling it with a lofty
chastity which in the Creole woman seems to be inborn and
unmistakable.
Never would Edna Pontellier forget the shock with which she
Awakening & Selected Short Stories |
