| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Illustrious Gaudissart by Honore de Balzac: lights, well got up, good paper, engravings from charming sketches
by our best artists, actual colored drawings of the Indies--will
not fade.' I fired my broadside 'feelings of a father, etc.,
etc.,'--in short, a subscription instead of a quarrel. 'There's
nobody but Gaudissart who can get out of things like that,' said
that little cricket Lamard to the big Bulot at the cafe, when he
told him the story.
"I leave to-morrow for Amboise. I shall do up Amboise in two days,
and I will write next from Tours, where I shall measure swords
with the inhabitants of that colorless region; colorless, I mean,
from the intellectual and speculative point of view. But, on the
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Weir of Hermiston by Robert Louis Stevenson: when he drew near the door-step of the lighted house, and was aware of
the figure of his father approaching from the opposite side. Little
daylight lingered; but on the door being opened, the strong yellow shine
of the lamp gushed out upon the landing and shone full on Archie, as he
stood, in the old-fashioned observance of respect, to yield precedence.
The judge came without haste, stepping stately and firm; his chin
raised, his face (as he entered the lamplight) strongly illumined, his
mouth set hard. There was never a wink of change in his expression;
without looking to the right or left, he mounted the stair, passed close
to Archie, and entered the house. Instinctively, the boy, upon his
first coming, had made a movement to meet him; instinctively he recoiled
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Adam Bede by George Eliot: only that they happen to be the signs of something unspeakably
great and beautiful. I am of opinion that love is a great and
beautiful thing too, and if you agree with me, the smallest signs
of it will not be chips and sawdust to you: they will rather be
like those little words,"light" and "music," stirring the long-
winding fibres of your memory and enriching your present with your
most precious past.
Chapter LI
Sunday Morning
LISBETH'S touch of rheumatism could not be made to appear serious
enough to detain Dinah another night from the Hall Farm, now she
Adam Bede |
