| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from An Historical Mystery by Honore de Balzac: Revolution as they were, and as he ought to be; and for this reason,
as well as for their own safety, they subsequently, in 1804, buckled
him irrevocably, as they believed, to its cause by the affair of the
Duc d'Enghien. The execution of that prince is connected by a series
of discoverable ramifications with the plot which was laid on that
June evening in the boudoir of the ministry of foreign affairs, the
night before the battle of Marengo. Those who have the means of
judging, and who have known persons who were well-informed, are fully
aware that Bonaparte was handled like a child by Talleyrand and
Fouche, who were determined to alienate him irrevocably from the House
of Bourbon, whose agents were even then, at the last moment,
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Alcibiades II by Platonic Imitator: beset by informers worse than they once were by their foes, insomuch that
several of them have wished that they had remained in a private station
rather than have had the glories of command. If, indeed, such perils and
terrors were of profit to the commonwealth, there would be reason in
undergoing them; but the very contrary is the case. Again, you will find
persons who have prayed for offspring, and when their prayers were heard,
have fallen into the greatest pains and sufferings. For some have begotten
children who were utterly bad, and have therefore passed all their days in
misery, while the parents of good children have undergone the misfortune of
losing them, and have been so little happier than the others that they
would have preferred never to have had children rather than to have had
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Street of Seven Stars by Mary Roberts Rinehart: if she found she had been wrong and the girl was deserving and
honest, she would see what could be done.
The day was wretched. The snow had turned to rain. Mrs. Boyer,
shopping, dragged wet skirts and damp feet from store to store.
She found nothing that she cared for after all. The garments that
looked chic in the windows or on manikins in the shops, were
absurd on her. Her insistent bosom bulged, straight lines became
curves or tortuous zigzags, plackets gaped, collars choked her or
shocked her by their absence. In the mirror of Marie Jedlicka,
clad in familiar garments that had accommodated themselves to the
idiosyncrasies of her figure, Mrs. Boyer was a plump, rather
|
