| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Father Goriot by Honore de Balzac: said. "Your love for me is as yet only the conventional gallantry
that men use to masquerade in; and, if you really loved me, you
would be driven to despair. I must keep silence, you see. Let us
talk of something else, for pity's sake," she added. "Let me show
you my rooms."
"No; let us stay here," answered Eugene; he sat down on the sofa
before the fire, and boldly took Mme. de Nucingen's hand in his.
She surrendered it to him; he even felt the pressure of her
fingers in one of the spasmodic clutches that betray terrible
agitation.
"Listen," said Rastignac; "if you are in trouble, you ought to
Father Goriot |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Trooper Peter Halket of Mashonaland by Olive Schreiner: pool it lay. The green lichen hung from the rocks. No sunlight came
there, and the stars could not look down at night. The pool lay still and
silent. Then, because it was alive and could not rest, it gathered its
strength together, through fallen earth and broken debris it oozed its way
silently on; and it crept out in a deep valley; the mountains closed it
around. And the streamlet laughed to itself, 'Ha, ha! I shall make a
great lake here; a sea!' And it oozed, and it oozed, and it filled half
the plain. But no lake came--only a great marsh--because there was no way
outwards, and the water rotted. The grass died out along its edges; and
the trees dropped their leaves and rotted in the water; and the wood dove
who had built her nest there flew up to the mountains, because her young
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Secret Places of the Heart by H. G. Wells: "It was not only from England that America came," said Miss
Grammont.
"But England takes an American memory back most easily and
most fully--to Avebury and the Baltic Northmen, past the
emperors and the Corinthian columns that smothered Latin
Europe. . . . For you and me anyhow this is our past, this
was our childhood, and this is our land." He interrupted
laughing as she was about to reply. "Well, anyhow," he said,
"it is a beautiful day and a pretty country before us with
the ripest history in every grain of its soil. So we'll send
a wire to your London people and tell them to send their
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