| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Beyond Good and Evil by Friedrich Nietzsche: just calls for caution. Let us therefore be cautious!
34. At whatever standpoint of philosophy one may place oneself
nowadays, seen from every position, the ERRONEOUSNESS of the
world in which we think we live is the surest and most certain
thing our eyes can light upon: we find proof after proof thereof,
which would fain allure us into surmises concerning a deceptive
principle in the "nature of things." He, however, who makes
thinking itself, and consequently "the spirit," responsible for
the falseness of the world--an honourable exit, which every
conscious or unconscious advocatus dei avails himself of--he who
regards this world, including space, time, form, and movement, as
Beyond Good and Evil |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Othello by William Shakespeare: Or else the deuill will make a Grand-sire of you.
Arise I say
Bra. What, haue you lost your wits?
Rod. Most reuerend Signior, do you know my voice?
Bra. Not I: what are you?
Rod. My name is Rodorigo
Bra. The worsser welcome:
I haue charg'd thee not to haunt about my doores:
In honest plainenesse thou hast heard me say,
My Daughter is not for thee. And now in madnesse
(Being full of Supper, and distempring draughtes)
Othello |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Little Rivers by Henry van Dyke: long, sweet breath from the small, deep-red, golden-hearted flowers
of an old-fashioned rose-tree straggling through the fence of a
neglected garden. Or perhaps, for a choice of emblems, you would
better take a yet more homely and familiar scent: the cool
fragrance of lilacs drifting through the June morning from the old
bush that stands between the kitchen door and the well; the warm
layer of pungent, aromatic air that floats over the tansy-bed in a
still July noon; the drowsy dew of odour that falls from the big
balm-of-Gilead tree by the roadside as you are driving homeward
through the twilight of August; or, best of all, the clean, spicy,
unexpected, unmistakable smell of a bed of spearmint--that is the
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