| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Madam How and Lady Why by Charles Kingsley: hearts and mine. And its name is the Tree of Unreason, whose
roots are conceit and ignorance, and its juices folly and death.
It drops its venom into the finest brains; and makes them call
sense, nonsense; and nonsense, sense; fact, fiction; and fiction,
fact. It drops its venom into the tenderest hearts, alas! and
makes them call wrong, right; and right, wrong; love, cruelty; and
cruelty, love. Some say that the axe is laid to the root of it
just now, and that it is already tottering to its fall: while
others say that it is growing stronger than ever, and ready to
spread its upas-shade over the whole earth. For my part, I know
not, save that all shall be as God wills. The tree has been cut
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Massimilla Doni by Honore de Balzac: The doctor's last words were:
"And you must cure Genovese!"
She spoke a word to the tenor as she went round the table. She
returned to the Prince, put her arm round his neck and kissed his hair
with an expression of despair which struck Vendramin and the
Frenchman, the only two who had their wits about them, then she
vanished into her room. Emilio, seeing Genovese leave the table, while
Cataneo and Capraja were absorbed in a long musical discussion, stole
to the door of the bedroom, lifted the curtain, and slipped in, like
an eel into the mud.
"But you see, Cataneo," said Capraja, "you have exacted the last drop
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from An Old Maid by Honore de Balzac: satisfied. She had that deliberate, demure little air which
distinguishes young women who have married for love. The rush of blood
to her head no longer tormented her. This appearance of satisfaction
routed the scoffers, contradicted certain rumors about du Bousquier,
and puzzled all observers of the human heart. Rose-Marie-Victoire was
so afraid that if she displeased her husband or opposed him, she would
lose his affection and be deprived of his company, that she would
willingly have sacrificed all to him, even her uncle. Her silly little
forms of pleasure deceived even the poor abbe for a time, who endured
his own trials all the better for thinking that his niece was happy,
after all.
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