| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Little Women by Louisa May Alcott: to do, and Satan is proverbially fond of providing employment
for full and idle hands. The poor fellow had temptations
enough from without and from within, but he withstood them
pretty well, for much as he valued liberty, he valued good
faith and confidence more, so his promise to his grandfather,
and his desire to be able to look honestly into the eyes of
the women who loved him, and say "All's well," kept him safe
and steady.
Very likely some Mrs. Grundy will observe, "I don't believe it,
boys will be boys, young men must sow their wild oats,
and women must not expect miracles." I dare say you don't,
Little Women |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The United States Bill of Rights: but in a manner to be prescribed by law.
IV
The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers,
and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated,
and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by oath
or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched,
and the persons or things to be seized.
V
No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime,
unless on a presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury, except in cases arising
in the land or naval forces, or in the Militia, when in actual service
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Enemies of Books by William Blades: The Nineteenth Century and the Steam Press ushered in a new era.
By degrees the libraries which were unendowed fell behind the age,
and were consequently neglected. No new works found their way in,
and the obsolete old books were left uncared for and unvisited.
I have seen many old libraries, the doors of which remained unopened
from week's end to week's end; where you inhaled the dust of paper-decay
with every breath, and could not take up a book without sneezing;
where old boxes, full of older literature, served as preserves
for the bookworm, without even an autumn "battue" to thin the breed.
Occasionally these libraries were (I speak of thirty years ago)
put even to vile uses, such as would have shocked all ideas
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