| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Symposium by Plato: must be plain with him and have no more ambiguity. So I gave him a shake,
and I said: 'Socrates, are you asleep?' 'No,' he said. 'Do you know what
I am meditating? 'What are you meditating?' he said. 'I think,' I
replied, 'that of all the lovers whom I have ever had you are the only one
who is worthy of me, and you appear to be too modest to speak. Now I feel
that I should be a fool to refuse you this or any other favour, and
therefore I come to lay at your feet all that I have and all that my
friends have, in the hope that you will assist me in the way of virtue,
which I desire above all things, and in which I believe that you can help
me better than any one else. And I should certainly have more reason to be
ashamed of what wise men would say if I were to refuse a favour to such as
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Secret Sharer by Joseph Conrad: that seemed to have no end to it. Terrific, I tell you--and a deep ship.
I believe the fellow himself was half crazed with funk. It was no time
for gentlemanly reproof, so I turned round and felled him like an ox.
He up and at me. We closed just as an awful sea made for the ship.
All hands saw it coming and took to the rigging, but I had him by
the throat, and went on shaking him like a rat, the men above us yelling,
`Look out! look out!' Then a crash as if the sky had fallen on my head.
They say that for over ten minutes hardly anything was to be seen
of the ship--just the three masts and a bit of the forecastle head
and of the poop all awash driving along in a smother of foam.
It was a miracle that they found us, jammed together behind the forebitts.
The Secret Sharer |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Mosses From An Old Manse by Nathaniel Hawthorne: his breast, they were inexpressibly horror stricken to feel the
monster wriggling, twining, and darting to and fro within his
narrow limits, evidently enlivened by the opium or alcohol, and
incited to unusual feats of activity. Thenceforth they gave up
all attempts at cure or palliation. The doomed sufferer submitted
to his fate, resumed his former loathsome affection for the bosom
fiend, and spent whole miserable days before a looking-glass,
with his mouth wide open, watching, in hope and horror, to catch
a glimpse of the snake's head far down within his throat. It is
supposed that he succeeded; for the attendants once heard a
frenzied shout, and, rushing into the room, found Roderick
Mosses From An Old Manse |
