| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Adieu by Honore de Balzac: fortunately was not touched, but Bichette, mortally wounded, was
struggling in the throes of death. Three men darted forward and
dispatched her with their bayonets.
"Cannibals!" cried Philippe, "let me at any rate take the horse-cloth
and my pistols."
"Pistols, yes," replied the grenadier. "But as for that horse-cloth,
no! here's a poor fellow afoot, with nothing in his stomach for two
days, and shivering in his rags. It is our general."
Philippe kept silence as he looked at the man, whose boots were worn
out, his trousers torn in a dozen places, while nothing but a ragged
fatigue-cap covered with ice was on his head. He hastened, however, to
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Statesman by Plato: worthy of the name? Is not government a science, and are we to suppose
that scientific government is secured by the rulers being many or few, rich
or poor, or by the rule being compulsory or voluntary? Can the many attain
to science? In no Hellenic city are there fifty good draught players, and
certainly there are not as many kings, for by kings we mean all those who
are possessed of the political science. A true government must therefore
be the government of one, or of a few. And they may govern us either with
or without law, and whether they are poor or rich, and however they govern,
provided they govern on some scientific principle,--it makes no difference.
And as the physician may cure us with our will, or against our will, and by
any mode of treatment, burning, bleeding, lowering, fattening, if he only
 Statesman |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Adventure by Jack London: beche-de-mer English to cheer the sufferers. Now and again, from
the far end, a weird wail was raised. When he arrived there he
found the noise was emitted by a boy who was not sick. The white
man's wrath was immediate.
"What name you sing out alla time?" he demanded.
"Him fella my brother belong me," was the answer. "Him fella die
too much."
"You sing out, him fella brother belong you die too much," the
white man went on in threatening tones. "I cross too much along
you. What name you sing out, eh? You fat-head make um brother
belong you die dose up too much. You fella finish sing out,
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