| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Eugenie Grandet by Honore de Balzac: with the impertinence of a young man of fashion conscious of having
killed four men in as many duels in the Indies. Monsieur des Grassins
had already called several times. Charles listened to him coldly, and
then replied, without fully understanding what had been said to him,--
"My father's affairs are not mine. I am much obliged, monsieur, for
the trouble you have been good enough to take,--by which, however, I
really cannot profit. I have not earned two millions by the sweat of
my brow to fling them at the head of my father's creditors."
"But suppose that your father's estate were within a few days to be
declared bankrupt?"
"Monsieur, in a few days I shall be called the Comte d'Aubrion; you
Eugenie Grandet |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Desert Gold by Zane Grey: the march at Papago Well. The horses were taken to water, then
led down the arroyo into the grass. Here packs were slipped,
saddles removed. Mercedes was cold, lame, tired, but happy. It
warmed Gale's blood to look at her. The shadow of fear still lay
in her eyes, but it was passing. Hope and courage shone there,
and affection for her ranger protectors and the Yaqui, and
unutterable love for the cavalryman. Jim Lash remarked how
cleverly they had fooled the rebels.
"Shore they'll be comin' along," replied Ladd.
They built a fire, cooked and ate. The Yaqui spoke only one
word: "Sleep." Blankets were spread. Mercedes dropped into a
Desert Gold |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Richard III by William Shakespeare: PAGE. I know a discontented gentleman
Whose humble means match not his haughty spirit.
Gold were as good as twenty orators,
And will, no doubt, tempt him to anything.
KING RICHARD. What is his name?
PAGE. His name, my lord, is Tyrrel.
KING RICHARD. I partly know the man. Go, call him hither,
boy. Exit PAGE
The deep-revolving witty Buckingham
No more shall be the neighbour to my counsels.
Hath he so long held out with me, untir'd,
Richard III |
