The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Taras Bulba and Other Tales by Nikolai Vasilievich Gogol: which sat two sentries playing at some game which consisted in one
striking the palm of the other's hand with two fingers. They paid
little heed to the new arrivals, and only turned their heads when
Yankel said, "It is we, sirs; do you hear? it is we."
"Go in!" said one of them, opening the door with one hand, and holding
out the other to his comrade to receive his blows.
They entered a low and dark corridor, which led them to a similar room
with small windows overhead. "Who goes there?" shouted several voices,
and Taras beheld a number of warriors in full armour. "We have been
ordered to admit no one."
"It is we!" cried Yankel; "we, by heavens, noble sirs!" But no one
 Taras Bulba and Other Tales |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The American by Henry James: I have no spirit, and when you have no spirit you must keep quiet.
I shan't trouble you any more."
"Well," said Newman, rather disgusted at the smooth operation
of the old man's philosophy, "that's as you please."
M. Nioche seemed to have been prepared to be despised but nevertheless
he made a feeble movement of appeal from Newman's faint praise.
"After all," he said, "she is my daughter, and I can still look after her.
If she will do wrong, why she will. But there are many different paths,
there are degrees. I can give her the benefit--give her the benefit"--
and M. Nioche paused, staring vaguely at Newman, who began to suspect
that his brain had softened--"the benefit of my experience,"
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Hated Son by Honore de Balzac: rocks between the sea and the house, and never crosses my path. I will
give him that fisherman's house down there for his dwelling, and the
beach for a domain. But woe betide him if I ever find him beyond those
limits."
The countess began to weep.
"Look at him!" she said. "He is your son."
"Madame!"
At that word, the frightened mother carried away the child whose heart
was beating like that of a bird caught in its nest. Whether innocence
has a power which the hardest men cannot escape, or whether the count
regretted his violence and feared to plunge into despair a creature so
|