| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Black Dwarf by Walter Scott: respect, his misanthropy displayed itself in words, and sometimes
in actions, of still greater rudeness; and he used on such
occasions the most unusual and singularly savage imprecations and
threats." [SCOTS MAGAZINE, vol. lxxx. p.207.]
Nature maintains a certain balance of good and evil in all her
works; and there is no state perhaps so utterly desolate, which
does not possess some source of gratification peculiar to itself,
This poor man, whose misanthropy was founded in a sense on his
own preternatural deformity, had yet his own particular
enjoyments. Driven into solitude, he became an admirer of the
beauties of nature. His garden, which he sedulously cultivated,
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from On Revenues by Xenophon: citizens were more in the habit of campaigning with one another,
rather than[6] shoulder to shoulder with Lydians, Phrygians, Syrians,
and barbarians from all quarters of the world, who form the staple of
our resident alien class. Besides the advantage [of so weeding the
ranks],[7] it would add a positive lustre to our city, were it
admitted that the men of Athens, her sons, have reliance on themselves
rather than on foreigners to fight her battles. And further, supposing
we offered our resident aliens a share in various other honourable
duties, including the cavalry service,[8] I shall be surprised if we
do not increase the goodwill of the aliens themselves, whilst at the
same time we add distinctly to the strength and grandeur of our city.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Riders of the Purple Sage by Zane Grey: help!" It was a prayer, as if forth from those lonely purple
reaches and walls of red and clefts of blue might ride a fearless
man, neither creed-bound nor creed-mad, who would hold up a
restraining hand in the faces of her ruthless people.
The restless movements of Tull's men suddenly quieted down. Then
followed a low whisper, a rustle, a sharp exclamation.
"Look!" said one, pointing to the west.
"A rider!"
Jane Withersteen wheeled and saw a horseman, silhouetted against
the western sky, coming riding out of the sage. He had ridden
down from the left, in the golden glare of the sun, and had been
 Riders of the Purple Sage |