| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Ruling Passion by Henry van Dyke: discouragement, held rendezvous in that dismal, cramped little room.
Many a night Nataline's fife of fun played a feeble, wheezy note.
But it played. And the crank went round. And every bit of glass in
the lantern was as clear as polished crystal. And the big lamp was
full of oil. And the great eye of the friendly giant winked without
ceasing, through fierce storm and placid moonlight.
When the tenth of December came, the light went to sleep for the
winter, and the keepers took their way across the ice to the
mainland. They had won the battle, not only on the island, fighting
against the elements, but also at Dead Men's Point, against public
opinion. The inhabitants began to understand that the lighthouse
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne: slaked with moisture; for innumerable columns of water rush upwards
into the air and fall back again in white foam.
Whither are we flying? My uncle lies full length across the raft.
The heat increases. I refer to the thermometer; it indicates . . .
(the figure is obliterated).
_Monday, August 24._ - Will there be an end to it? Is the atmospheric
condition, having once reached this density, to become final?
We are prostrated and worn out with fatigue. But Hans is as usual.
The raft bears on still to the south-east. We have made two hundred
leagues since we left Axel Island.
At noon the violence of the storm redoubles. We are obliged to secure
Journey to the Center of the Earth |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Study of a Woman by Honore de Balzac: attains perfection. As they went up the staircase Rastignac perceived
at least a dozen blunders in worldly wisdom which had, unaccountably,
slipped into this page of the glorious book of his life.
When Madame de Listomere saw her husband ushering in Eugene she could
not help blushing. The young baron saw that sudden color. If the most
humble-minded man retains in the depths of his soul a certain conceit
of which he never rids himself, any more than a woman ever rids
herself of coquetry, who shall blame Eugene if he did say softly in
his own mind: "What! that fortress, too?" So thinking, he posed in his
cravat. Young men may not be grasping but they like to get a new coin
in their collection.
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