| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table by Oliver Wendell Holmes: in fact.
- The woman who "calculates" is lost.
- Put not your trust in money, but put your money in trust.
CHAPTER III
[THE "Atlantic" obeys the moon, and its LUNIVERSARY has come round
again. I have gathered up some hasty notes of my remarks made
since the last high tides, which I respectfully submit. Please to
remember this is TALK; just as easy and just as formal as I choose
to make it.]
- I never saw an author in my life - saving, perhaps, one - that
did not purr as audibly as a full-grown domestic cat, (FELIS CATUS,
The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Vailima Letters by Robert Louis Stevenson: white dress and white hat, I in a suit of Bedford cords hot
from the Sydney tailors; and conceive us, below, ink-black to
the knees with adhesive clay, and above, streaming with heat.
I suppose it was better than three miles, but at last we made
the end of Malie. I asked if we could find no water to wash
our feet; and our nursemaid guided us to a pool. We sat down
on the pool side, and our nursemaid washed our feet and legs
for us - ladies first, I suppose out of a sudden respect to
the insane European fancies: such a luxury as you can scarce
imagine. I felt a new man after it. But before we got to
the King's house we were sadly muddied once more. It was 1
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Selected Writings of Guy De Maupassant by Guy De Maupassant: squatted herself on the ground with her legs tucked under her,
after the manner of tailors, and kept wriggling about
continually, under the pretext that ants were crawling about her
somewhere. Monsieur Dufour, whom the politeness of the strangers
had put into rather a bad temper, was trying to find a
comfortable position, which he did not, however, succeed in
doing, while the youth with the yellow hair was eating as
silently as an ogre.
"It is lovely weather, Monsieur," the stout lady said to one of
the boating-men. She wished to be friendly, because they had
given up their place.
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