|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Apology by Plato:
I mean the latter--that you are a complete atheist.
What an extraordinary statement! Why do you think so, Meletus? Do you
mean that I do not believe in the godhead of the sun or moon, like other
I assure you, judges, that he does not: for he says that the sun is stone,
and the moon earth.
Friend Meletus, you think that you are accusing Anaxagoras: and you have
but a bad opinion of the judges, if you fancy them illiterate to such a
degree as not to know that these doctrines are found in the books of
Anaxagoras the Clazomenian, which are full of them. And so, forsooth, the
youth are said to be taught them by Socrates, when there are not
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from La Grenadiere by Honore de Balzac:
a chorister, a peasant child from the village, was lifted up, and the
dying mother received the Viaticum from an aged priest. The Viaticum!
sublime word, containing an idea yet more sublime, an idea only
possessed by the apostolic religion of the Roman church.
"This woman has suffered greatly!" the old cure said in his simple
Marie Willemsens heard no voices now, but her eyes were still fixed
upon her children. Those about her listened in terror to her breathing
in the deep silence; already it came more slowly, though at intervals
a deep sigh told them that she still lived, and of a struggle within
her; then at last it ceased. Every one burst into tears except Marie.
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Silverado Squatters by Robert Louis Stevenson:
make the passage difficult. But now we were hard by the
summit. The road crosses the ridge, just in the nick that
Kelmar showed me from below, and then, without pause, plunges
down a deep, thickly wooded glen on the farther side. At the
highest point a trail strikes up the main hill to the
leftward; and that leads to Silverado. A hundred yards
beyond, and in a kind of elbow of the glen, stands the Toll
House Hotel. We came up the one side, were caught upon the
summit by the whole weight of the wind as it poured over into
Napa Valley, and a minute after had drawn up in shelter, but
all buffetted and breathless, at the Toll House door.