| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Psychology of Revolution by Gustave le Bon: Before the Revolution he had advanced great scientific
pretensions, but no one attached much importance to his
maunderings. Dreaming of place and honour, he had only obtained
a very subordinate situation in the household of a great noble.
The Revolution opened up an unhoped-for future. Swollen with
hatred of the old social system which had not recognised his
merits, he put himself at the head of the most violent section of
the people. Having publicly glorified the massacres of
September, he founded a journal which denounced everybody and
clamoured incessantly for executions.
Speaking continually of the interests of the people, Marat became
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Moran of the Lady Letty by Frank Norris: Now what have you got to say?"
Hoang was silent. His queue had become unbound for half its
length, and he plaited it anew, winking his eyes thoughtfully.
"Well, what do you say?" said Moran.
"I lose face," answered Hoang at length, calmly.
"You lose face? What do you mean?"
"I lose face," he insisted; then added: "I heap 'shamed. You
fightee my China boy, you catchee me. My boy no mo' hab me fo'
boss--savvy? I go back, him no likee me. Mebbe all same killee
me. I lose face--no mo' boss."
"What a herd of wild cattle!" muttered Wilbur.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Massimilla Doni by Honore de Balzac: an hereditary prerogative, you who are worthy of the portrait of
/Margherita/, one of the few canvases painted entirely by Raphael to
his glory! My beautiful and saintly mistress, shall I not have
deserved you if I fly from this abyss of flowers? Should I be worthy
of you if I profaned a heart that is wholly yours? No; I will not fall
into the vulgar snare laid for me by my rebellious senses! This girl
has her Duke, mine be my Duchess!"
As he lifted the curtain, he heard a moan. The heroic lover looked
round and saw Clarina on her knees, her face hidden in the bed,
choking with sobs. Is it to be believed? The singer was lovelier
kneeling thus, her face invisible, than even in her confusion with a
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