| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Amy Foster by Joseph Conrad: should understand Spanish; but I tried him with
the few words I know, and also with some French.
The whispered sounds I caught by bending my ear
to his lips puzzled me utterly. That afternoon the
young ladies from the Rectory (one of them read
Goethe with a dictionary, and the other had strug-
gled with Dante for years), coming to see Miss
Swaffer, tried their German and Italian on him
from the doorway. They retreated, just the least
bit scared by the flood of passionate speech which,
turning on his pallet, he let out at them. They ad-
Amy Foster |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Prince of Bohemia by Honore de Balzac: man who prides himself, as I do, on a certain expertness. It is
everywhere unfathomable; the dark depths in it are darker than in any
other mystery; the colors confused even in the highest lights.
"Cursy was an old playwright, jaded by the life of the theatrical
world. He liked comfort; he liked a luxurious, affluent, easy
existence; he enjoyed being a king in his own house; he liked to be
host to a party of men of letters in a hotel resplendent with royal
luxury, with carefully chosen works of art shining in the setting.
Tullia allowed du Bruel to enthrone himself amid the tribe; there were
plenty of journalists whom it was easy enough to catch and ensnare;
and, thanks to her evening parties and a well-timed loan here and
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Hidden Masterpiece by Honore de Balzac: his cuffs with convulsive haste, slipped his thumb through the palette
charged with prismatic colors, and snatched, rather than took, the
handful of brushes which Porbus held out to him. As he did so his
beard, cut to a point, seemed to quiver with the eagerness of an
incontinent fancy; and while he filled his brush he muttered between
his teeth:--
"Colors fit to fling out of the window with the man who ground them,--
crude, false, revolting! who can paint with them?"
Then he dipped the point of his brush with feverish haste into the
various tints, running through the whole scale with more rapidity than
the organist of a cathedral runs up the gamut of the "O Filii" at
|
