| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Sophist by Plato: are both always true, and neither of them ever false.
THEAETETUS: True.
STRANGER: Then, now, let us speak of names, as before we were speaking of
ideas and letters; for that is the direction in which the answer may be
expected.
THEAETETUS: And what is the question at issue about names?
STRANGER: The question at issue is whether all names may be connected with
one another, or none, or only some of them.
THEAETETUS: Clearly the last is true.
STRANGER: I understand you to say that words which have a meaning when in
sequence may be connected, but that words which have no meaning when in
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte: through wind and snow to see you? She wept to miss one evening,
because you would be disappointed; and you felt then that she was a
hundred times too good to you: and now you believe the lies your
father tells, though you know he detests you both. And you join
him against her. That's fine gratitude, is it not?'
The corner of Linton's mouth fell, and he took the sugar-candy from
his lips.
'Did she come to Wuthering Heights because she hated you?' I
continued. 'Think for yourself! As to your money, she does not
even know that you will have any. And you say she's sick; and yet
you leave her alone, up there in a strange house! You who have
Wuthering Heights |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Life of the Spider by J. Henri Fabre: splendid dead-white, isolated on every side by radiating pillars
which keep it motionless in the centre of the tapestry. These
pillars are about ten in number and are slender in the middle,
expanding at one end into a conical capital and at the other into a
base of the same shape. They face one another and mark the
position of the vaulted corridors which allow free movement in
every direction around the central chamber. The mother walks
gravely to and fro under the arches of her cloisters, she stops
first here, then there; she makes a lengthy auscultation of the
egg-wallet; she listens to all that happens inside the satin
wrapper. To disturb her would be barbarous.
The Life of the Spider |
