| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Disputation of the Power and Efficacy of Indulgences by Dr. Martin Luther: granted him by God, even without letters of pardon.
38. Nevertheless, the remission and participation [in the
blessings of the Church] which are granted by the pope are in
no way to be despised, for they are, as I have said, the
declaration of divine remission.
39. It is most difficult, even for the very keenest
theologians, at one and the same time to commend to the people
the abundance of pardons and [the need of] true contrition.
40. True contrition seeks and loves penalties, but liberal
pardons only relax penalties and cause them to be hated, or at
least, furnish an occasion [for hating them].
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Case of the Golden Bullet by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner: had no occupants except Professor Fellner and his servant. With
its graceful outlines and well-planned garden, the dwelling had a
most attractive appearance. Opposite it was the broad avenue known
as the Promenade, and beyond this were open fields. To the right
and to the left were similar villas in their gardens.
Dummel opened the door and the three men entered the house. The
commissioner and the valet went in first, Muller following them more
slowly. His sharp eyes glanced quickly over the coloured tiles of
the flooring, over the white steps and the carpeted hallway beyond.
Once he bent quickly and picked up something, then he walked on with
his usual quiet manner, out of which every trace of excitement had
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Padre Ignacio by Owen Wister: host sat on in the empty hail, fondly talking to his guest of his bygone
Paris and fondly learning of the later Paris that the guest had seen. And
thus the two lingered, exchanging their enthusiasms, while the candles
waned, and the long-haired Indians stood silent behind the chairs.
"But we must go to my piano," the host exclaimed. For at length they had
come to a lusty difference of opinion. The Padre, with ears critically
deaf, and with smiling, unconvinced eyes, was shaking his head, while
young Gaston sang Trovatore at him, and beat upon the table with a fork.
"Come and convert me, then," said Padre Ignacio, and he led the way.
"Donizetti I have always admitted. There, at least, is refinement. If the
world has taken to this Verdi, with his street-band music--But there,
|
