|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Salammbo by Gustave Flaubert:
discovered him at a distance of fifteen paces from the spot where
Matho's tent lately stood. They recognised him by his long beard and
they called the rest.
Stretched on his back, his arms against his hips, and his knees close
together, he looked like a dead man laid out for the tomb.
Nevertheless his wasted sides rose and fell, and his eyes, wide-opened
in his pallid face, gazed in a continuous and intolerable fashion.
The Barbarians looked at him at first with great astonishment. Since
he had been living in the pit he had been almost forgotten; rendered
uneasy by old memories they stood at a distance and did not venture to
raise their hands against him.
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Economist by Xenophon:
your bidding, given they possess a wholesome appetite for gain,
how will you lesson them in carefulness? how teach them growth in
diligence to meet your wishes?
 Or, "in matters such as you insist on."
Isch. By a simple method, Socrates. When I see a man intent on
carefulness, I praise and do my best to honour him. When, on the other
hand, I see a man neglectful of his duties, I do not spare him: I try
in every way, by word and deed, to wound him.
Soc. Come now, Ischomachus, kindly permit a turn in the discussion,
which has hitherto concerned the persons being trained to carefulness
themselves, and explain a point in reference to the training process.
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from De Profundis by Oscar Wilde:
not illumined by the imagination. He sees all the lovely
influences of life as modes of light: the imagination itself is
the world of light. The world is made by it, and yet the world
cannot understand it: that is because the imagination is simply a
manifestation of love, and it is love and the capacity for it that
distinguishes one human being from another.
But it is when he deals with a sinner that Christ is most romantic,
in the sense of most real. The world had always loved the saint as
being the nearest possible approach to the perfection of God.
Christ, through some divine instinct in him, seems to have always
loved the sinner as being the nearest possible approach to the