| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Perfect Wagnerite: A Commentary on the Niblung's Ring by George Bernard Shaw: turn that to a foe. They agree accordingly that on the morrow a
great hunt shall take place, at which Hagen shall thrust his
spear into the hero's vulnerable back. The blame is to be laid on
the tusk of a wild boar. Gunther, being a fool, is remorseful
about his oath of blood-brotherhood and about his sister's
bereavement, without having the strength of mind to prevent the
murder. The three burst into a herculean trio, similar in
conception to that of the three conspirators in Un Ballo in
Maschera; and the act concludes with a joyous strain heralding
the appearance of SiegEried's wedding procession, with strewing
of flowers, sacrificing to the gods, and carrying bride and
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Modeste Mignon by Honore de Balzac: existence. She performed with humble, loving care all the minute
duties of the homely life at the Chalet, using them as a rein to guide
the poetry of her ideal life, like the Carthusian monks who labor
methodically on material things to leave their souls the freer to
develop in prayer. All great minds have bound themselves to some form
of mechanical toil to obtain greater mastery of thought. Spinosa
ground glasses for spectacles; Bayle counted the tiles on the roof;
Montesquieu gardened. The body being thus subdued, the soul could
spread its wings in all security.
Madame Mignon, reading her daughter's soul, was therefore right.
Modeste loved; she loved with that rare platonic love, so little
Modeste Mignon |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald: sun. Sitting on Tom's lap Mrs. Wilson called up several people on the
telephone; then there were no cigarettes, and I went out to buy some at
the drugstore on the corner. When I came back they had disappeared, so
I sat down discreetly in the living-room and read a chapter of SIMON
CALLED PETER.--either it was terrible stuff or the whiskey distorted
things, because it didn't make any sense to me.
Just as Tom and Myrtle (after the first drink Mrs. Wilson and I called
each other by our first names) reappeared, company commenced to arrive
at the apartment-door.
The sister, Catherine, was a slender, worldly girl of about thirty,
with a solid, sticky bob of red hair, and a complexion powdered milky
The Great Gatsby |
