|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Heart of the West by O. Henry:
any respect if it was secular affairs, but this is not so. The smiles
of woman,' goes on Paisley, 'is the whirlpool of Squills and
Chalybeates, into which vortex the good ship Friendship is often drawn
and dismembered. I'd assault a bear that was annoying you,' says
Paisley, 'or I'd endorse your note, or rub the place between your
shoulder-blades with opodeldoc the same as ever; but there my sense of
etiquette ceases. In this fracas with Mrs. Jessup we play it alone.
I've notified you fair.'
"And then I collaborates with myself, and offers the following
resolutions and by-laws:
"'Friendship between man and man,' says I, 'is an ancient historical
Heart of the West
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Philebus by Plato:
this remark; and Socrates proceeds to ask how he can have a right to
attribute a new predicate (i.e. 'good') to pleasures in general, when he
cannot deny that they are different? What common property in all of them
does he mean to indicate by the term 'good'? If he continues to assert
that there is some trivial sense in which pleasure is one, Socrates may
retort by saying that knowledge is one, but the result will be that such
merely verbal and trivial conceptions, whether of knowledge or pleasure,
will spoil the discussion, and will prove the incapacity of the two
disputants. In order to avoid this danger, he proposes that they shall
beat a retreat, and, before they proceed, come to an understanding about
the 'high argument' of the one and the many.
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Richard III by William Shakespeare:
And charg'd us from his soul to love each other,
He little thought of this divided friendship.
Bid Gloucester think of this, and he will weep.
FIRST MURDERER. Ay, millstones; as he lesson'd us to weep.
CLARENCE. O, do not slander him, for he is kind.
FIRST MURDERER. Right, as snow in harvest. Come, you
'Tis he that sends us to destroy you here.
CLARENCE. It cannot be; for he bewept my fortune
And hugg'd me in his arms, and swore with sobs
That he would labour my delivery.