| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Sentimental Journey by Laurence Sterne: simple words - (and no more) - to which I own'd myself so much its
debtor.
Upon his master's going on for Italy, the lad had given it to the
master of the hotel. But his little song for liberty being in an
UNKNOWN language at Paris, the bird had little or no store set by
him: so La Fleur bought both him and his cage for me for a bottle
of Burgundy.
In my return from Italy I brought him with me to the country in
whose language he had learned his notes; and telling the story of
him to Lord A-, Lord A- begg'd the bird of me; - in a week Lord A-
gave him to Lord B-; Lord B- made a present of him to Lord C-; and
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Melmoth Reconciled by Honore de Balzac: Sulpice--a gloomy, dark, damp, and cold abode. The Rue Ferou itself is
one of the most dismal streets in Paris; it has a north aspect like
all the streets that lie at right angles to the left bank of the
Seine, and the houses are in keeping with the site. As Castanier stood
on the threshold he found that the door itself, like the vaulted roof,
was hung with black; rows of lighted tapers shone brilliantly as
though some king were lying in state; and a priest stood on either
side of a catafalque that had been raised there.
"There is no need to ask why you have come, sir," the old hall porter
said to Castanier; "you are so like our poor dear master that is gone.
But if you are his brother, you have come too late to bid him
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin by Robert Louis Stevenson: inherited his eye and hand. She played on the harp and sang with
something beyond the talent of an amateur. At the age of
seventeen, she heard Pasta in Paris; flew up in a fire of youthful
enthusiasm; and the next morning, all alone and without
introduction, found her way into the presence of the PRIMA DONNA
and begged for lessons. Pasta made her sing, kissed her when she
had done, and though she refused to be her mistress, placed her in
the hands of a friend. Nor was this all, for when Pasta returned
to Paris, she sent for the girl (once at least) to test her
progress. But Mrs. Jenkin's talents were not so remarkable as her
fortitude and strength of will; and it was in an art for which she
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