| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Child of Storm by H. Rider Haggard: thrust over.
At length the long line began to thin, for now it was composed of
stragglers and weak or injured beasts, of which there were many. Other
sounds, too, began to dominate the bellowings of the animals, those of
the excited cries of men. The first of our companions, the
cattle-lifters, appeared, weary and gasping, but waving their spears in
triumph. Among them was old Tshoza. I stepped upon my rock, calling to
him by name. He heard me, and presently was lying at my side panting.
"We have got them all!" he gasped. "Not a hoof is left save those that
are trodden down. Saduko is not far behind with the rest of our
brothers, except some that have been killed. All the Amakoba tribe are
Child of Storm |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Critias by Plato: men of those days in accordance with the custom of the time set up a figure
and image of the goddess in full armour, to be a testimony that all animals
which associate together, male as well as female, may, if they please,
practise in common the virtue which belongs to them without distinction of
sex.
Now the country was inhabited in those days by various classes of
citizens;--there were artisans, and there were husbandmen, and there was
also a warrior class originally set apart by divine men. The latter dwelt
by themselves, and had all things suitable for nurture and education;
neither had any of them anything of their own, but they regarded all that
they had as common property; nor did they claim to receive of the other
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Odyssey by Homer: heaven. Yea and the gods, in the likeness of strangers from
far countries, put on all manner of shapes, and wander
through the cities, beholding the violence and the
righteousness of men.'
So the wooers spake, but he heeded not their words. Now
Telemachus nursed in his heart a mighty grief at the
smiting of Odysseus, yet he let no tear fall from his
eyelids to the ground, but shook his head in silence,
brooding evil in the deep of his heart.
Now when wise Penelope heard of the stranger being smitten
in the halls, she spake among her maidens, saying:
The Odyssey |
