| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from When the World Shook by H. Rider Haggard: Yva, and tell us who and what is the Lord Oro, and who and what
are you."
"Have we not done so already? If not, I will repeat. The Lord
Oro and I are two who have lived on from the old time when the
world was different, and yet, I think, the same. He is a man and
not a god, and I am a woman. His powers are great because of his
knowledge, which he has gathered from his forefathers and in a
life of a thousand years before he went to sleep. He can do
things you cannot do. Thus, he can pass through space and take
others with him, and return again. He can learn what is happening
in far-off parts of the world, as he did when he told you of the
When the World Shook |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from At the Mountains of Madness by H. P. Lovecraft: hinted that any existed on earth except in the dreams of those
who had chewed a certain alkaloidal herb. When the star-headed
Old Ones on this planet had synthesized their simple food forms
and bred a good supply of Shoggoths, they allowed other cell groups
to develop into other forms of animal and vegetable life for sundry
purposes, extirpating any whose presence became troublesome.
With
the aid of the Shoggoths, whose expansions could be made to lift
prodigious weights, the small, low cities under the sea grew to
vast and imposing labyrinths of stone not unlike those which later
rose on land. Indeed, the highly adaptable Old Ones had lived
At the Mountains of Madness |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Thus Spake Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche: And verily, towards thy mountain and thy tree do many eyes turn to-day; a
great longing hath arisen, and many have learned to ask: 'Who is
Zarathustra?'
And those into whose ears thou hast at any time dripped thy song and thy
honey: all the hidden ones, the lone-dwellers and the twain-dwellers, have
simultaneously said to their hearts:
'Doth Zarathustra still live? It is no longer worth while to live,
everything is indifferent, everything is useless: or else--we must live
with Zarathustra!'
'Why doth he not come who hath so long announced himself?' thus do many
people ask; 'hath solitude swallowed him up? Or should we perhaps go to
Thus Spake Zarathustra |
