| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie: No doubt the fellow was very useful to her. But you could have
knocked us all down with a feather when, three months ago, she
suddenly announced that she and Alfred were engaged! The fellow
must be at least twenty years younger than she is! It's simply
bare-faced fortune hunting; but there you are--she is her own
mistress, and she's married him."
"It must be a difficult situation for you all."
"Difficult! It's damnable!"
Thus it came about that, three days later, I descended from the
train at Styles St. Mary, an absurd little station, with no
apparent reason for existence, perched up in the midst of green
The Mysterious Affair at Styles |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Second Home by Honore de Balzac: pleasures had never importuned Roger by a single indiscreet ambition,
and his heart was a treasure-house of kindness. Never had she longed
for diamonds or fine clothes, and had again and again refused the
luxury of a carriage which he had offered her. To look out from her
balcony for Roger's cab, to go with him to the play or make excursions
with him, on fine days in the environs of Paris, to long for him, to
see him, and then to long again,--these made up the history of her
life, poor in incidents but rich in happiness.
As she rocked the infant, now a few months old, on her knee, singing
the while, she allowed herself to recall the memories of the past. She
lingered more especially on the months of September, when Roger was
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Vailima Letters by Robert Louis Stevenson: hoping for the mail steamer with a menagerie on board. No
such luck; the ship delayed; and at last, about three, I had
to send them home again, a failure of a day's pleasuring that
does not bear to be discussed. Lloyd was so sickened that he
returned the same night to Vailima, Belle and I held on, sat
most of the evening on the hotel verandah stricken silly with
fatigue and disappointment, and genuine sorrow for our poor
boys and girls, and got to bed with rather dismal
appreciations of the morrow.
These were more than justified, and yet I never had a jollier
day than Friday 27th. By 7.30 Belle and I had breakfast; we
|
