|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The House of Dust by Conrad Aiken:
How shall we live to-night, where shall we turn?
To what new light or darkness yearn?
A thousand winding stairs lead down before us;
And one by one in myriads we descend
By lamplit flowered walls, long balustrades,
Through half-lit halls which reach no end. . . .
Take my arm, then, you or you or you,
And let us walk abroad on the solid air:
Look how the organist's head, in silhouette,
Leans to the lamplit music's orange square! . . .
The dim-globed lamps illumine rows of faces,
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from In Darkest England and The Way Out by General William Booth:
supplied the motive power, but it was the discipline of the
revolutionary armies, the stern, unbending obedience which was enforced
in all ranks from the highest to the lowest, which created for Napoleon
the admirable military instrument by which he shattered every throne in
Europe and swept in triumph from Paris to Moscow.
In industrial affairs we are very much like the French Republic before
it tempered its doctrine of the rights of man by the duty of obedience
on the part of the soldier. We have got to introduce discipline into
the industrial army, we have to superadd the principle of authority to
the principle of co-operation, and so to enable the worker to profit to
the full by the increased productiveness of the willing labour of men
In Darkest England and The Way Out
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from My Bondage and My Freedom by Frederick Douglass:
them, and her present owners finding she <141 DEATH OF MRS.
LUCRETIA>was of but little value, her frame already racked with
the pains of old age, and complete helplessness fast stealing
over her once active limbs, they took her to the woods, built her
a little hut, put up a little mud-chimney, and then made her
welcome to the privilege of supporting herself there in perfect
loneliness; thus virtually turning her out to die! If my poor
old grandmother now lives, she lives to suffer in utter
loneliness; she lives to remember and mourn over the loss of
children, the loss of grandchildren, and the loss of great-
grandchildren. They are, in the language of the slave's poet,
My Bondage and My Freedom