|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Crito by Plato:
or possible; I beseech you therefore, Socrates, be persuaded by me, and do
as I say.
SOCRATES: Dear Crito, your zeal is invaluable, if a right one; but if
wrong, the greater the zeal the greater the danger; and therefore we ought
to consider whether I shall or shall not do as you say. For I am and
always have been one of those natures who must be guided by reason,
whatever the reason may be which upon reflection appears to me to be the
best; and now that this chance has befallen me, I cannot repudiate my own
words: the principles which I have hitherto honoured and revered I still
honour, and unless we can at once find other and better principles, I am
certain not to agree with you; no, not even if the power of the multitude
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Life in the Iron-Mills by Rebecca Davis:
cigar. "But the walk is worth the trouble. If it were not that
you must have heard it so often, Kirby, I would tell you that
your works look like Dante's Inferno."
"Yes. Yonder is Farinata himself in the burning tomb,"--
pointing to some figure in the shimmering shadows.
"Judging from some of the faces of your men," said the other,
"they bid fair to try the reality of Dante's vision, some day."
Young Kirby looked curiously around, as if seeing the faces of
his hands for the first time.
"They're bad enough, that's true. A desperate set, I fancy.
Life in the Iron-Mills
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Nada the Lily by H. Rider Haggard:
but not dead, licking my brother's wounds, and scares the fowls away.
It was the beak of a vulture, who had smelt me out at last, that woke
me from my sleep beneath the stone, Nada, and I crept hither. Would
that he had not awakened me, would that I had died as I lay, rather
than lived a little while till you perish thus, like a trapped fox,
Nada, and presently I follow you."
"It is hard to die so, Umslopogaas," she answered, "I who am yet young
and fair, who love you, and hoped to give you children; but so it has
come about, and it may not be put away. I am well-nigh sped, husband;
horror and fear have conquered me, my strength fails, but I suffer
little. Let us talk no more of death, let us rather speak of our
Nada the Lily