|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas:
was betrothed' he said; `and I feel convinced they have all
unfeignedly grieved over my loss. The name of one of the
four friends is Caderousse.'" The inn-keeper shivered.
"`Another of the number,'" continued the abbe, without
seeming to notice the emotion of Caderousse, "`is called
Danglars; and the third, in spite of being my rival,
entertained a very sincere affection for me.'" A fiendish
smile played over the features of Caderousse, who was about
to break in upon the abbe's speech, when the latter, waving
his hand, said, "Allow me to finish first, and then if you
have any observations to make, you can do so afterwards.
The Count of Monte Cristo
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Theaetetus by Plato:
connexion with the mind, space with the body; yet time, as well as space,
is necessary to our idea of either. We see also that they have an analogy
with one another, and that in Mathematics they often interpenetrate. Space
or place has been said by Kant to be the form of the outward, time of the
inward sense. He regards them as parts or forms of the mind. But this is
an unfortunate and inexpressive way of describing their relation to us.
For of all the phenomena present to the human mind they seem to have most
the character of objective existence. There is no use in asking what is
beyond or behind them; we cannot get rid of them. And to throw the laws of
external nature which to us are the type of the immutable into the
subjective side of the antithesis seems to be equally inappropriate.
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Vicar of Tours by Honore de Balzac:
its judgments,--called by ninnies "the misfortunes of life."
There was this difference between the late Chapeloud and the vicar,--
one was a shrewd and clever egoist, the other a simple-minded and
clumsy one. When the canon went to board with Mademoiselle Gamard he
knew exactly how to judge of his landlady's character. The
confessional had taught him to understand the bitterness that the
sense of being kept outside the social pale puts into the heart of an
old maid; he therefore calculated his own treatment of Mademoiselle
Gamard very wisely. She was then about thirty-eight years old, and
still retained a few pretensions, which, in well-behaved persons of
her condition, change, rather later, into strong personal self-esteem.