| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Essays & Lectures by Oscar Wilde: among your men and women. Sickly or idle or melancholy people do
not do much in art. And lastly, you require a sense of
individualism about each man and woman, for this is the essence of
art - a desire on the part of man to express himself in the noblest
way possible. And this is the reason that the grandest art of the
world always came from a republic: Athens, Venice, and Florence -
there were no kings there and so their art was as noble and simple
as sincere. But if you want to know what kind of art the folly of
kings will impose on a country look at the decorative art of France
under the GRAND MONARQUE, under Louis the Fourteenth; the gaudy
gilt furniture writhing under a sense of its own horror and
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions by Edwin A. Abbot: Bewildered though I was by my Teacher's enigmatic utterance,
I no longer chafed against it, but worshipped him in silent adoration.
He continued, with more mildness in his voice. "Distress not yourself
if you cannot at first understand the deeper mysteries of Spaceland.
By degrees they will dawn upon you. Let us begin by casting back
a glance at the region whence you came. Return with me a while
to the plains of Flatland, and I will shew you that which
you have often reasoned and thought about, but never seen
with the sense of sight -- a visible angle." "Impossible!" I cried;
but, the Sphere leading the way, I followed as if in a dream,
till once more his voice arrested me: "Look yonder,
 Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Padre Ignacio by Owen Wister: inspiration of the South, mastered him. "Verdi has grown," he cried.
"Verdi is become a giant." And he swayed to the beat of the melodies, and
waved an enthusiastic arm. He demanded every note. Why did not Gaston
remember it all? But if the barkentine would arrive and bring the whole
music, then they would have it right! And he made Gaston teach him what
words he knew. "'Non ti scorder,'" he sang--"'non ti scordar di me.' That
is genius. But one sees how the world moves when one is out of it. 'A
nostri monti ritorneremo'; home to our mountains. Ah, yes, there is
genius again." And the exile sighed and his spirit voyaged to distant
places, while Gaston continued brilliantly with the music of the final
scene.
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