| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Eugenie Grandet by Honore de Balzac: death threatened more than death to him; in spite of the consideration
he now showed on all occasions for the least wish of his astonished
wife and daughter; in spite of the tender care which Eugenie lavished
upon her mother,--Madame Grandet rapidly approached her end. Every day
she grew weaker and wasted visibly, as women of her age when attacked
by serious illness are wont to do. She was fragile as the foliage in
autumn; the radiance of heaven shone through her as the sun strikes
athwart the withering leaves and gilds them. It was a death worthy of
her life,--a Christian death; and is not that sublime? In the month of
October, 1822, her virtues, her angelic patience, her love for her
daughter, seemed to find special expression; and then she passed away
 Eugenie Grandet |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Lily of the Valley by Honore de Balzac: political feeling mingled with the warmth of affection,--a combination
which gives to women so great a power of persuasion; they know how to
give to the keenest arguments a tone of feeling. In her desire to
justify all her husband's actions Henriette had foreseen the
criticisms that would rise in my mind as soon as I saw the servile
effects of a courtier's life upon him. Monsieur de Mortsauf, king in
his own castle and surrounded by an historic halo, had, to my eyes, a
certain grandiose dignity. I was therefore greatly astonished at the
distance he placed between the duchess and himself by manners that
were nothing less than obsequious. A slave has his pride and will only
serve the greatest despots. I confess I was humiliated at the
 The Lily of the Valley |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Elizabeth and her German Garden by Marie Annette Beauchamp: and silence, yet there I stood feeling the same rapture of pure
delight in the first breath of spring that I used to as a child,
and the five wasted years fell from me like a cloak, and the world
was full of hope, and I vowed myself then and there to nature,
and have been happy ever since.
My other half being indulgent, and with some faint thought
perhaps that it might be as well to look after the place,
consented to live in it at any rate for a time; whereupon followed
six specially blissful weeks from the end of April into June,
during which I was here alone, supposed to be superintending
the painting and papering, but as a matter of fact only going
 Elizabeth and her German Garden |