| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Seraphita by Honore de Balzac: interview of the famous Swedenborg with Queen Louisa-Ulrika. The
circumstances therein stated are wholly false; and I hope the
writer will excuse me for showing him by the following faithful
narration, which can be proved by the testimony of many
distinguished persons then present and still living, how
completely he has been deceived.
In 1758, shortly after the death of the Prince of Prussia
Swedenborg came to court, where he was in the habit of attending
regularly. He had scarcely entered the queen's presence before she
said to him: "Well, Mr. Assessor, have you seen my brother?"
Swedenborg answered no, and the queen rejoined: "If you do see
Seraphita |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Bucolics by Virgil: These triple threads of threefold colour first
I twine about thee, and three times withal
Around these altars do thine image bear:
Uneven numbers are the god's delight.
"Draw from the town, my songs, draw Daphnis home.
Now, Amaryllis, ply in triple knots
The threefold colours; ply them fast, and say
This is the chain of Venus that I ply.
"Draw from the town, my songs, draw Daphnis home.
As by the kindling of the self-same fire
Harder this clay, this wax the softer grows,
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Buttered Side Down by Edna Ferber: eyes, her cheeks. Nay (as the story-writers would put it), he
hadn't even devoured her with his gaze.
This morning, however, he had begun to show some signs of
life. He was developing possibilities. Whereupon, at this
critical stage in the story-writing game, the hair-washing mania
seized Mary Louise. She tried to dismiss the idea. She pushed it
out of her mind, and slammed the door. It only popped in again.
Her fingers wandered to her hair. Her eyes wandered to the June
sunshine outside. The hero was left poised, arms outstretched, and
unquenchable love-light burning in his eyes, while Mary Louise
mused, thus:
Buttered Side Down |
