| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Madame Firmiani by Honore de Balzac: they were in Paris at the time of Mallet's conspiracy, forgetting that
half an hour earlier they had described how they had crossed the
Beresina. Nearly all Contradictors are "chevaliers" of the Legion of
honor; they talk loudly, have retreating foreheads, and play high.
"Madame Firmiani a hundred thousand francs a year? nonsense, you are
crazy! Some people will persist in giving millions with the liberality
of authors, to whom it doesn't cost a penny to dower their heroines.
Madame Firmiani is simply a coquette, who has lately ruined a young
man, and now prevents him from making a fine marriage. If she were not
so handsome she wouldn't have a penny."
Ah, THAT ONE--of course you recognize him--belongs to the species
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Laches by Plato: boldness, in the face of universal opinion, to deny their courage.
NICIAS: Why, Laches, I do not call animals or any other things which have
no fear of dangers, because they are ignorant of them, courageous, but only
fearless and senseless. Do you imagine that I should call little children
courageous, which fear no dangers because they know none? There is a
difference, to my way of thinking, between fearlessness and courage. I am
of opinion that thoughtful courage is a quality possessed by very few, but
that rashness and boldness, and fearlessness, which has no forethought, are
very common qualities possessed by many men, many women, many children,
many animals. And you, and men in general, call by the term 'courageous'
actions which I call rash;--my courageous actions are wise actions.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Othello by William Shakespeare: Hath rais'd me from my bed; nor doth the generall care
Take hold on me. For my perticular griefe
Is of so flood-gate, and ore-bearing Nature,
That it engluts, and swallowes other sorrowes,
And it is still it selfe
Duke. Why? What's the matter?
Bra. My Daughter: oh my Daughter!
Sen. Dead?
Bra. I, to me.
She is abus'd, stolne from me, and corrupted
By Spels, and Medicines, bought of Mountebanks;
 Othello |