|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Parmenides by Plato:
have not yet received their solution in modern philosophy.
The first difficulty which Parmenides raises respecting the Platonic ideas
relates to the manner in which individuals are connected with them. Do
they participate in the ideas, or do they merely resemble them? Parmenides
shows that objections may be urged against either of these modes of
conceiving the connection. Things are little by partaking of littleness,
great by partaking of greatness, and the like. But they cannot partake of
a part of greatness, for that will not make them great, etc.; nor can each
object monopolise the whole. The only answer to this is, that 'partaking'
is a figure of speech, really corresponding to the processes which a later
logic designates by the terms 'abstraction' and 'generalization.' When we
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton:
the rhythm is different," he reflected, recalling the cool
composure with which the young man had announced
his engagement, and taken for granted that his family
"The difference is that these young people take it for
granted that they're going to get whatever they want,
and that we almost always took it for granted that we
shouldn't. Only, I wonder--the thing one's so certain
of in advance: can it ever make one's heart beat as
It was the day after their arrival in Paris, and the
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Ballads by Robert Louis Stevenson:
VALE OF THE STRONG HONOURA, DEEP RAVINE OF PAI,
AGAIN IN YOUR WOODY SUMMITS I HEAR THE TRADE-WIND CRY.
HOUSE OF MINE, IN YOUR WALLS, STRONG SOUNDS THE SEA,
OF ALL SOUNDS ON EARTH, DEAREST SOUND TO ME.
I HAVE HEARD THE APPLAUSE OF MEN, I HAVE HEARD IT ARISE AND DIE:
SWEETER NOW IN MY HOUSE I HEAR THE TRADE-WIND CRY.
These were the words of his singing, other the thought of his heart;
For secret desire of glory vexed him, dwelling apart.
Lazy and crafty he was, and loved to lie in the sun,
And loved the cackle of talk and the true word uttered in fun;
Lazy he was, his roof was ragged, his table was lean,