|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Lysis by Plato:
by the philosophers), to a more comprehensive notion of friendship. This,
however, is far from being cleared of its perplexity. Two notions appear
to be struggling or balancing in the mind of Socrates:--First, the sense
that friendship arises out of human needs and wants; Secondly, that the
higher form or ideal of friendship exists only for the sake of the good.
That friends are not necessarily either like or unlike, is also a truth
confirmed by experience. But the use of the terms 'like' or 'good' is too
strictly limited; Socrates has allowed himself to be carried away by a sort
of eristic or illogical logic against which no definition of friendship
would be able to stand. In the course of the argument he makes a
distinction between property and accident which is a real contribution to
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Pagan and Christian Creeds by Edward Carpenter:
cups five pieces of camphor were placed, all approximately
equal in size. After offerings had been made, of fruit,
flowers and sandalwood, the five camphors in each candlestick
were lighted. As the camphor flames burned out the music
became more wild and exciting, and then at the moment of
their extinction the curtains were drawn aside and the
congregation outside suddenly beheld the god revealed
and in a blaze of light. This burning of camphor was,
like other things in the service, emblematic. The five
lights represent the five senses. Just as camphor consumes
itself and leaves no residue behind, so should the five senses,
Pagan and Christian Creeds
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Secrets of the Princesse de Cadignan by Honore de Balzac:
"What an incredible secret!" cried the marquise.
"Ah! my dear," replied the princess, "such secrets we can tell to
ourselves, you and I, but nobody in Paris would believe us."
"And," said the marquise, "if we were not both over thirty-six years
of age, perhaps we would not tell them to each other."
"Yes; when women are young they have so many stupid conceits," replied
the princess. "We are like those poor young men who play with a
toothpick to pretend they have dined."
"Well, at any rate, here we are!" said Madame d'Espard, with
coquettish grace, and a charming gesture of well-informed innocence;
"and, it seems to me, sufficiently alive to think of taking our