| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Symposium by Plato: justice. And not only is he just but exceedingly temperate, for Temperance
is the acknowledged ruler of the pleasures and desires, and no pleasure
ever masters Love; he is their master and they are his servants; and if he
conquers them he must be temperate indeed. As to courage, even the God of
War is no match for him; he is the captive and Love is the lord, for love,
the love of Aphrodite, masters him, as the tale runs; and the master is
stronger than the servant. And if he conquers the bravest of all others,
he must be himself the bravest. Of his courage and justice and temperance
I have spoken, but I have yet to speak of his wisdom; and according to the
measure of my ability I must try to do my best. In the first place he is a
poet (and here, like Eryximachus, I magnify my art), and he is also the
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde: the plain and the coloured. The plain women are very useful.
If you want to gain a reputation for respectability, you have merely
to take them down to supper. The other women are very charming.
They commit one mistake, however. They paint in order to try and look young.
Our grandmothers painted in order to try and talk brilliantly.
Rouge and esprit used to go together. That is all over now.
As long as a woman can look ten years younger than her own daughter,
she is perfectly satisfied. As for conversation, there are only five
women in London worth talking to, and two of these can't be admitted into
decent society. However, tell me about your genius. How long have you
known her?"
The Picture of Dorian Gray |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Vendetta by Honore de Balzac: "You must choose between us. Our vendetta is a part of our being.
Whoso does not share my vengeance is not a member of my family."
"My choice is made," replied Ginevra, calmly.
His daughter's tranquillity misled Bartolomeo.
"Oh! my dear child!" he cried, letting her see his eyes moistened with
tears, the first and only tears he ever shed in life.
"I shall be his wife," said Ginevra, abruptly.
Bartolomeo seemed dazed for a moment, but he recovered his coolness
instantly, and replied:--
"The marriage will not take place in my lifetime; I will never consent
to it."
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