|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Ferragus by Honore de Balzac:
have seduced this Ida? There was something impossible in the very
idea. Wandering in this labyrinth of reflections, which crossed,
recrossed, and obliterated one another, the baron reached the rue
Pagevin, and saw a hackney-coach standing at the end of the rue des
Vieux-Augustins where it enters the rue Montmartre. All waiting
hackney-coaches now had an interest for him.
"Can she be there?" he thought to himself, and his heart beat fast
with a hot and feverish throbbing.
He pushed the little door with the bell, but he lowered his head as he
did so, obeying a sense of shame, for a voice said to him secretly:--
"Why are you putting your foot into this mystery?"
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Case of the Registered Letter by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner:
letter was written. Until this Unknown makes himself known, the
letter as an evidence points rather to premeditated suicide than to
the contrary. Oh, if I could only have seen the body! They tell
me the pistol was found some little distance from the body. Is it
at all likely that a murderer would go away leaving such evidence
behind him? If Graumaun had killed Siders in a hasty quarrel, he
might possibly, in his excitement, have left his revolver. But I
have already disposed of this possibility. A man of sufficient
brains to so carefully plan his suicide as to conceal every trace
of it and cast suspicion upon the man who had made him unhappy, such
a one would be quite clever enough to throw the pistol far away
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Madame Firmiani by Honore de Balzac:
smiling; "I came to humbly entreat my husband to accept my fortune.
The Austrian Embassy has just sent me a document which proves the
death of Monsieur Firmiani, also the will, which his valet was keeping
safely to put into my own hands. Octave, you can accept it all; you
are richer than I, for you have treasures here" (laying her hand upon
his heart) "to which none but God can add." Then, unable to support
her happiness, she laid her head upon her husband's breast.
"My dear niece," said the old man, "in my day we made love; in yours,
you love. You women are all that is best in humanity; you are not even
guilty of your faults, for they come through us."