| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Common Sense by Thomas Paine: THE MANNER OF THE KING THAT SHALL REIGN OVER YOU; HE WILL TAKE YOUR
SONS AND APPOINT THEM FOR HIMSELF, FOR HIS CHARIOTS, AND TO BE HIS
HORSEMAN, AND SOME SHALL RUN BEFORE HIS CHARIOTS (this description
agrees with the present mode of impressing men) AND HE WILL APPOINT
HIM CAPTAINS OVER THOUSANDS AND CAPTAINS OVER FIFTIES, AND WILL SET THEM
TO EAR HIS GROUND AND REAP HIS HARVEST, AND TO MAKE HIS INSTRUMENTS OF WAR,
AND INSTRUMENTS OF HIS CHARIOTS; AND HE WILL TAKE YOUR DAUGHTERS
TO BE CONFECTIONARIES, AND TO BE COOKS AND TO BE BAKERS
(this describes the expense and luxury as well as the oppression
of kings) AND HE WILL TAKE YOUR FIELDS AND YOUR OLIVE YARDS,
EVEN THE BEST OF THEM, AND GIVE THEM TO HIS SERVANTS;
Common Sense |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Poems by Bronte Sisters: The rain drives fast before the wind,
The sky is blank and grey;
O Jane, what sadness fills the mind
On such a dreary day!"
"You think too much, my sister dear;
You sit too long alone;
What though November days be drear?
Full soon will they be gone.
I've swept the hearth, and placed your chair,.
Come, Emma, sit by me;
Our own fireside is never drear,
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Louis Lambert by Honore de Balzac: merciless eyes of his fellows. To sensitive natures these
preliminaries were an introductory torture, like the journey from the
Palais de Justice to the Place de Greve which the condemned used to
make to the scaffold.
Some boys cried out and shed bitter tears before or after the
application of the strap; others accepted the infliction with stoic
calm; it was a question of nature; but few could control an expression
of anguish in anticipation.
Louis Lambert was constantly enduring the strap, and owed it to a
peculiarity of his physiognomy of which he was for a long time quite
unconscious. Whenever he was suddenly roused from a fit of abstraction
Louis Lambert |
