| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Ballads by Robert Louis Stevenson: She dwelt at least about Tepari, - "the sea-cliffs," - the
eastern fastness of the isle; walked by paths known only to
herself upon the mountains; was courted by dangerous suitors
who came swimming from adjacent islands, and defended and
rescued (as I gather) by the loyalty of native fish. My
anxiety to learn more of "Ahupu Vehine" became (during my
stay in Taiarapu) a cause of some diversion to that mirthful
people, the inhabitants.
Note 3, "COVERED AN OVEN." The cooking fire is made in a
hole in the ground, and is then buried.
Note 4, "FLIES." This is perhaps an anachronism. Even
 Ballads |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Collection of Antiquities by Honore de Balzac: He was of average height, but well proportioned, slender, and almost
delicate-looking, but muscular. He had the brilliant blue eyes of the
d'Esgrignons, the finely-moulded aquiline nose, the perfect oval of
the face, the auburn hair, the white skin, and the graceful gait of
his family; he had their delicate extremities, their long taper
fingers with the inward curve, and that peculiar distinction of
shapeliness of the wrist and instep, that supple felicity of line,
which is as sure a sign of race in men as in horses. Adroit and alert
in all bodily exercises, and an excellent shot, he handled arms like a
St. George, he was a paladin on horseback. In short, he gratified the
pride which parents take in their children's appearance; a pride
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Second Home by Honore de Balzac: "Love, my dear," replied Granville, with a sort of ironical surprise,
"you are incapable of understanding it. The cold sky of Normandy is
not that of Spain. This difference of climate is no doubt the secret
of our disaster.--To yield to our caprices, to guess them, to find
pleasure in pain, to sacrifice the world's opinion, your pride, your
religion even, and still regard these offerings as mere grains of
incense burnt in honor of the idol--that is love--"
"The love of ballet-girls!" cried the Countess in horror. "Such flames
cannot last, and must soon leave nothing but ashes and cinders, regret
or despair. A wife ought, in my opinion, to bring you true friendship,
equable warmth--"
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