| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Herodias by Gustave Flaubert: cast about him were defiant, and even venomous.
But now a new tumult arose just within the gates. A file of white
mules entered the courtyard, mounted by men in priestly garb. These
were the Sadducees and the Pharisees, who were drawn to Machaerus by
the same ambition: the one party hoping to be appointed public
sacrificers, the other determined to retain those offices. Their faces
were dark, particularly those of the Pharisees, who were enemies of
Rome and of the tetrarch. The flowing skirts of their tunics
embarrassed their movements as they attempted to pass through the
throng; and their tiaras sat unsteadily upon their brows, around which
were bound small bands of parchment, showing lines of writing.
Herodias |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Myths and Myth-Makers by John Fiske: fire-god, invested with many solar attributes, and represents
the quickening forces of nature. In this capacity the
invention of fire was ascribed to him as well as to
Prometheus; he was said to be the friend of mankind, and was
surnamed Ploutodotes, or "the giver of wealth."
The Norse wind-god Odin has in like manner acquired several of
the attributes of Freyr and Thor.[63] His lightning-spear,
which is borrowed from Thor, appears by a comical
metamorphosis as a wish-rod which will administer a sound
thrashing to the enemies of its possessor. Having cut a hazel
stick, you have only to lay down an old coat, name your
Myths and Myth-Makers |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from One Basket by Edna Ferber: paving. I have even known Mrs. Hines to bring her cherries out
there when she had canning to do, and pit them there on the front
porch partially shielded by her porch vine, but not so
effectually that she was deprived of the sights and sounds about
her. The kettle in her lap and the dishpan full of great ripe
cherries on the porch floor by her chair, she would pit and chat
and peer out through the vines, the red juice staining her plump
bare arms.
I have wondered since what Blanche Devine thought of us those
lonesome evenings--those evenings filled with friendly sights and
sounds. It must have been difficult for her, who had dwelt
One Basket |
