| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Damaged Goods by Upton Sinclair: "Don't you know how to tell us what?"
"I tell you, everything."
"Why," exclaimed Madame Dupont, "you are an imbecile!"
George stepped between his mother and the nurse. "Let me talk to
her," he said.
The woman came back to her old formula: "I know that we're only
poor country people."
"Listen to me, nurse," said the young man. "Only a little while
ago you were afraid that we would send you away. You were
satisfied with the wages which my mother had fixed. In addition
to those wages we had promised you a good sum when you returned
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Vendetta by Honore de Balzac: Luigi, we have no other fortune than our love."
"Then am I richer than the kings of the earth!" he cried.
"My father and my mother have cast me off," she said, in deepest
sadness.
"I will love you in place of them."
"Then let us be happy,--we WILL be happy!" she cried, with a gayety in
which there was something dreadful.
CHAPTER V
MARRIAGE
The day after Ginevra was driven from her father's house she went to
ask Madame Servin for asylum and protection until the period fixed by
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Hidden Masterpiece by Honore de Balzac: your conscientious labor I cannot believe that this beautiful body has
the warm breath of life. If I put my hand on that firm, round throat I
shall find it cold as marble. No, no, my friend, blood does not run
beneath that ivory skin; the purple tide of life does not swell those
veins, nor stir those fibres which interlace like net-work below the
translucent amber of the brow and breast. This part palpitates with
life, but that other part is not living; life and death jostle each
other in every detail. Here, you have a woman; there, a statue; here
again, a dead body. Your creation is incomplete. You have breathed
only a part of your soul into the well-beloved work. The torch of
Prometheus went out in your hands over and over again; there are
|
