|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Charmides by Plato:
can be taught; whether the virtues are one or many. (iv) They have a want
of depth, when compared with the dialogues of the middle and later period;
and a youthful beauty and grace which is wanting in the later ones. (v)
Their resemblance to one another; in all the three boyhood has a great
part. These reasons have various degrees of weight in determining their
place in the catalogue of the Platonic writings, though they are not
conclusive. No arrangement of the Platonic dialogues can be strictly
chronological. The order which has been adopted is intended mainly for the
convenience of the reader; at the same time, indications of the date
supplied either by Plato himself or allusions found in the dialogues have
not been lost sight of. Much may be said about this subject, but the
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Wyoming by William MacLeod Raine:
fellows. We'll have the men we want inside of fifteen minutes,"
he promised the mob.
"We'll rush them from both sides, and show those guys on the
landing whether they can stop us," added Bostwick.
Suddenly some one raised the cry, "The soldiers!" Bannister
looked up the street and swore a vicious oath. Swinging down the
road at double time came a company of militia in khaki. He was
mad with baffled fury, but he made good his retreat at once and
disappeared promptly into the nearest dark alley.
The mob scattered by universal impulse; disintegrated so promptly
that within five minutes the soldiers held the ground alone, save
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Bickerstaff-Partridge Papers by Jonathan Swift:
Alack-a-day, replies the fellow, why 'tis in print, and the whole
town knows you are dead; why, there's Mr. White the joiner is but
fitting screws to your coffin, he'll be here with it in an
instant: he was afraid you would have wanted it before this time.
Sirrah, Sirrah, says I, you shall know tomorrow to your cost,
that I am alive, and alive like to be. Why, 'tis strange, sir,
says he, you should make such a secret of your death to us that
are your neighbours; it looks as if you had a design to defraud
the church of its dues; and let me tell you, for one that has
lived so long by the heavens, that's unhandsomely done. Hist,
Hist, says another rogue that stood by him, away Doctor, in your