| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Apology by Plato: speaking have a superhuman wisdom which I may fail to describe, because I
have it not myself; and he who says that I have, speaks falsely, and is
taking away my character. And here, O men of Athens, I must beg you not to
interrupt me, even if I seem to say something extravagant. For the word
which I will speak is not mine. I will refer you to a witness who is
worthy of credit; that witness shall be the God of Delphi--he will tell you
about my wisdom, if I have any, and of what sort it is. You must have
known Chaerephon; he was early a friend of mine, and also a friend of
yours, for he shared in the recent exile of the people, and returned with
you. Well, Chaerephon, as you know, was very impetuous in all his doings,
and he went to Delphi and boldly asked the oracle to tell him whether--as I
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Maggie: A Girl of the Streets by Stephen Crane: speeches of his opponents by making irrelevant but very sharp
remarks. Those actors who were cursed with villainy parts were
confronted at every turn by the gallery. If one of them rendered
lines containing the most subtile distinctions between right and
wrong, the gallery was immediately aware if the actor meant
wickedness, and denounced him accordingly.
The last act was a triumph for the hero, poor and of the
masses, the representative of the audience, over the villain
and the rich man, his pockets stuffed with bonds, his heart packed
with tyrannical purposes, imperturbable amid suffering.
Maggie always departed with raised spirits from the showing
Maggie: A Girl of the Streets |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald: which were a complete supper in themselves. I wanted to get out and walk
southward toward the park through the soft twilight, but each time I tried
to go I became entangled in some wild, strident argument which pulled me
back, as if with ropes, into my chair. Yet high over the city our line of
yellow windows must have contributed their share of human secrecy to the
casual watcher in the darkening streets, and I was him too, looking up and
wondering. I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled
by the inexhaustible variety of life.
Myrtle pulled her chair close to mine, and suddenly her warm breath
poured over me the story of her first meeting with Tom.
"It was on the two little seats facing each other that are always the
The Great Gatsby |
