| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Bunner Sisters by Edith Wharton: sure what she'd ought to do and what she'd oughtn't; but I will say
her husband took to drink, and she never was the same woman after
her fust baby--well, they had an elegant church wedding, and what
you s'pose I saw as I was walkin' up the aisle with the wedding
percession?"
"Well?" Ann Eliza whispered, forgetting to thread her needle.
"Why, a coffin, to be sure, right on the top step of the
chancel--Emma's folks is 'piscopalians and she would have a church
wedding, though HIS mother raised a terrible rumpus over it-
-well, there it set, right in front of where the minister stood
that was going to marry 'em, a coffin covered with a black velvet
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Second Inaugural Address by Abraham Lincoln: perpetuate, and extend this interest was the object for which the
insurgents would rend the Union, even by war; while the government claimed
no right to do more than to restrict the territorial enlargement of it.
Neither party expected for the war the magnitude or the duration
which it has already attained. Neither anticipated that the cause
of the conflict might cease with, or even before, the conflict itself
should cease. Each looked for an easier triumph, and a result less
fundamental and astounding. Both read the same Bible, and pray
to the same God; and each invokes his aid against the other.
It may seem strange that any men should dare to ask a just God's
assistance in wringing their bread from the sweat of other men's faces;
Second Inaugural Address |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Apology by Xenophon: sentence of death be passed upon me, it is plain I shall be allowed to
meet an end which, in the opinion of those who have studied the
matter, is not only the easiest in itself, but one which will cause
the least trouble to one's friends,[15] while engendering the deepest
longing for the departed. For of necessity he will only be thought of
with regret and longing who leaves nothing behind unseemly or
discomfortable to haunt the imagination of those beside him, but,
sound of body, and his soul still capable of friendly repose, fades
tranquilly away."
[1] Or, "Socrates' Defence before the Dicasts." For the title of the
work see Grote, "H. G." viii. 641; Schneid. ap. L. Dindorf's note
The Apology |
