| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Lysis by Plato: any further advice which you may have to offer. Will you tell me by what
words or actions I may become endeared to my love?
That is not easy to determine, I said; but if you will bring your love to
me, and will let me talk with him, I may perhaps be able to show you how to
converse with him, instead of singing and reciting in the fashion of which
you are accused.
There will be no difficulty in bringing him, he replied; if you will only
go with Ctesippus into the Palaestra, and sit down and talk, I believe that
he will come of his own accord; for he is fond of listening, Socrates. And
as this is the festival of the Hermaea, the young men and boys are all
together, and there is no separation between them. He will be sure to
Lysis |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Glinda of Oz by L. Frank Baum: had come, but the Skeezers who were in it were puzzled
what to do with themselves. Perhaps they were not sorry
their cruel mistress had been transformed into a
Diamond Swan, but the transformation had left them
quite helpless. The under-water boat was not operated
by machinery, but by certain mystic words uttered by
Coo-ee-oh. They didn't know how to submerge it, or how
to make the water-tight shield cover them again, or how
to make the boat go back to the castle, or make it
enter the little basement room where it was usually
kept. As a matter of fact, they were now shut out of
Glinda of Oz |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from At the Sign of the Cat & Racket by Honore de Balzac: and make him forget the first days----" At these words Augustine broke
down, suffocated with sobs she could not suppress. Ashamed of her
weakness, she hid her face in her handkerchief, which she bathed with
tears.
"What a child you are, my dear little beauty!" said the Duchess,
carried away by the novelty of such a scene, and touched, in spite of
herself, at receiving such homage from the most perfect virtue perhaps
in Paris. She took the young wife's handkerchief, and herself wiped
the tears from her eyes, soothing her by a few monosyllables murmured
with gracious compassion. After a moment's silence the Duchess,
grasping poor Augustine's hands in both her own--hands that had a rare
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