| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Dunwich Horror by H. P. Lovecraft: Ph.D. Princeton, Litt.D. Johns Hopkins) who had once called at
the farm, and who now politely plied him with questions. He was
looking, he had to admit, for a kind of formula or incantation
containing the frightful name Yog-Sothoth, and it puzzled him
to find discrepancies, duplications, and ambiguities which made
the matter of determination far from easy. As he copied the formula
he finally chose, Dr Armitage looked involuntarily over his shoulder
at the open pages; the left-hand one of which, in the Latin version,
contained such monstrous threats to the peace and sanity of the
world.
Nor is it to be thought (ran the text as Armitage mentally
The Dunwich Horror |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Plain Tales from the Hills by Rudyard Kipling: suffered from intermittent fever, and that may have distracted him
from his other trouble. He was weak about the heart also. Both
ways. One of the valves was affected, and the fever made it worse.
This showed itself later on.
Then many months passed, and Mrs. Schreiderling took to being ill.
She did not pine away like people in story books, but she seemed to
pick up every form of illness that went about a station, from
simple fever upwards. She was never more than ordinarily pretty at
the best of times; and the illness made her ugly. Schreiderling
said so. He prided himself on speaking his mind.
When she ceased being pretty, he left her to her own devices, and
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Charmides by Plato: Certainly not.
The art of health is different.
Yes, different.
Nor does wisdom give advantage, my good friend; for that again we have just
now been attributing to another art.
Very true.
How then can wisdom be advantageous, when giving no advantage?
That, Socrates, is certainly inconceivable.
You see then, Critias, that I was not far wrong in fearing that I could
have no sound notion about wisdom; I was quite right in depreciating
myself; for that which is admitted to be the best of all things would never
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