| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Gambara by Honore de Balzac: dared to hope. He took her to a little apartment, where he had allowed
himself to remind her of his good offices by some of the elegant
trifles which have a charm for the most virtuous women.
"I will never speak to you of love till you give up all hope of your
Paolo," said the Count to Marianna, as he bid her good-bye at the Rue
Froid-Manteau. "You will be witness to the sincerity of my attempts.
If they succeed. I may find myself unequal to keeping up my part as a
friend; but in that case I shall go far away, Marianna. Though I have
firmness enough to work for your happiness, I shall not have so much
as will enable me to look on at it."
"Do not say such things. Generosity, too, has its dangers," said she,
Gambara |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Woman and Labour by Olive Schreiner: finding in woman active companionship and co-operation rather than passive
submission. If the New Woman's conception of parenthood differs from the
old in the greater sense of the gravity and obligation resting on those who
are responsible for the production of the individual life, making her
attitude toward the production of her race widely unlike the reckless,
unreasoning, maternal reproduction of the woman of the past, the most
typical male tends to feel in at least the same degree the moral and social
obligation entailed by awakening lifehood: if the ideal which the New
Woman shapes for herself of a male companion excludes the crudely animal
hard-drinking, hard-swearing, licentious, even if materially wealthy
gallant of the past; the most typically modern male's ideal for himself
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Virginibus Puerisque by Robert Louis Stevenson: better or worse, the pitcher gone to the well, the scythe to
the corn, and the student to his book; and no one been any the
wiser of the loss. There are not many works extant, if you
look the alternative all over, which are worth the price of a
pound of tobacco to a man of limited means. This is a
sobering reflection for the proudest of our earthly vanities.
Even a tobacconist may, upon consideration, find no great
cause for personal vainglory in the phrase; for although
tobacco is an admirable sedative, the qualities necessary for
retailing it are neither rare nor precious in themselves.
Alas and alas! you may take it how you will, but the services
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