| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from An Historical Mystery by Honore de Balzac: shoeing in this particular manner not only the horses of the chateau
de Cinq-Cygne, but those from other places in the canton. It was also
proved that the horse which Michu habitually rode was always shod at
Troyes, and the mark of that shoe was not among the hoof-prints found
in the park.
"Michu's double was not aware of this circumstance, or he would have
provided for it," said Monsieur de Grandville, looking at the jury.
"Neither has the prosecution shown what horses our clients rode."
He ridiculed the testimony of Violette so far as it concerned a
recognition of the horses, seen from a long distance, from behind, and
after dusk. Still, in spite of all his efforts, the body of the
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Personal Record by Joseph Conrad: What an extraordinary outbreak!" Presently a wave of scandalized
astonishment (it could not have been greater if I had announced
the intention of entering a Carthusian monastery) ebbing out of
the educational and academical town of Cracow spread itself over
several provinces. It spread itself shallow but far-reaching.
It stirred up a mass of remonstrance, indignation, pitying
wonder, bitter irony, and downright chaff. I could hardly
breathe under its weight, and certainly had no words for an
answer. People wondered what Mr. T. B. would do now with his
worrying nephew and, I dare say, hoped kindly that he would make
short work of my nonsense.
A Personal Record |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Distinguished Provincial at Paris by Honore de Balzac: Lousteau answered coolly. "In short, my dear fellow, in literature you
will not make money by hard work, that is not the secret of success;
the point is to exploit the work of somebody else. A newspaper
proprietor is a contractor, we are the bricklayers. The more mediocre
the man, the better his chance of getting on among mediocrities; he
can play the toad-eater, put up with any treatment, and flatter all
the little base passions of the sultans of literature. There is Hector
Merlin, who came from Limoges a short time ago; he is writing
political articles already for a Right Centre daily, and he is at work
on our little paper as well. I have seen an editor drop his hat and
Merlin pick it up. The fellow was careful never to give offence, and
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