|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Black Dwarf by Walter Scott:
of lunatics--for their disgraceful restraints--for their cruel
privations, than for communication with the rest of humanity.
Hubert alone--and Hubert too will one day abandon me. All are of
a piece, one mass of wickedness, selfishness, and ingratitude--
wretches, who sin even in their devotions; and of such hardness
of heart, that they do not, without hypocrisy, even thank the
Deity himself for his warm sun and pure air."
As he was plunged in these gloomy soliloquies, he heard the tramp
of a horse on the other side of his enclosure, and a strong clear
bass voice singing with the liveliness inspired by a light heart,
Canny Hobbie Elliot, canny Hobbie now,
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Theaetetus by Plato:
thinkers, he was absorbed with one idea, and that idea was the absoluteness
of perception. Like Socrates, he seemed to see that philosophy must be
brought back from 'nature' to 'truth,' from the world to man. But he did
not stop to analyze whether he meant 'man' in the concrete or man in the
abstract, any man or some men, 'quod semper quod ubique' or individual
private judgment. Such an analysis lay beyond his sphere of thought; the
age before Socrates had not arrived at these distinctions. Like the
Cynics, again, he discarded knowledge in any higher sense than perception.
For 'truer' or 'wiser' he substituted the word 'better,' and is not
unwilling to admit that both states and individuals are capable of
practical improvement. But this improvement does not arise from
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Purse by Honore de Balzac:
would not listen to me when I told her that a day more or less
did not matter----"
Hippolyte was not listening. As he looked at these two noble,
calm faces, he blushed for his suspicions, and ascribed the loss
of his purse to some unknown accident.
This was a delicious evening to him, and perhaps to her too.
There are some secrets which young souls understand so well.
Adelaide could read Hippolyte's thoughts. Though he could not
confess his misdeeds, the painter knew them, and he had come back
to his mistress more in love, and more affectionate, trying thus
to purchase her tacit forgiveness. Adelaide was enjoying such