| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Two Poets by Honore de Balzac: way of life, that he might have come ready dressed into the world. You
could no more imagine him apart from his clothes than you could think
of a bulb without its husk. If the old printer had not long since
given the measure of his blind greed, the very nature of the man came
out in the manner of his abdication.
Knowing, as he did, that his son must have learned his business pretty
thoroughly in the great school of the Didots, he had yet been
ruminating for a long while over the bargain that he meant to drive
with David. All that the father made, the son, of course, was bound to
lose, but in business this worthy knew nothing of father or son. If,
in the first instance, he had looked on David as his only child, later
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Facino Cane by Honore de Balzac: thousand livres weight of gold, which meant six journeys across the
prison to the gondola. The sentinel at the water gate was bribed with
a bag containing ten livres weight of gold; and as far as the two
gondoliers, they believed they were serving the Republic. At daybreak
we set out.
"Once upon the open sea, when I thought of that night, when I
recollected all that I had felt, when the vision of that great hoard
rose before my eyes, and I computed that I had left behind thirty
millions in silver, twenty in gold, and many more in diamonds, pearls,
and rubies--then a sort of madness began to work in me. I had the gold
fever.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The House of Dust by Conrad Aiken: And faints to a ghostly whisper . . . Come with me.
Are you still doubtful of me--hesitant still,
Fearful, perhaps, that I may yet remember
What you would gladly, if you could, forget?
You were unfaithful once, you met your lover;
Still in your heart you bear that red-eyed ember;
And I was silent,--you remember my silence yet . . .
You knew, as well as I, I could not kill him,
Nor touch him with hot hands, nor yet with hate.
No, and it was not you I saw with anger.
Instead, I rose and beat at steel-walled fate,
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