| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from On Horsemanship by Xenophon: termed {perone}, being of the brooch-pin order.
If the young horse in walking bends his knees flexibly, you may safely
conjecture that when he comes to be ridden he will have flexible legs,
since the quality of suppleness invariably increases with age.[15]
Supple knees are highly esteemed and with good reason, rendering as
they do the horse less liable to stumble or break down from fatigue
than those of stiffer build.
[15] Lit. "all horses bend their legs more flexibly as time advances."
Coming to the thighs below the shoulder-blades,[16] or arms, these if
thick and muscular present a stronger and handsomer appearance, just
as in the case of a human being. Again, a comparatively broad chest is
On Horsemanship |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Schoolmistress and Other Stories by Anton Chekhov: "Well, nobody forces you to take the job. It's not your turn to
be on duty today, but Zastupov hired you to take his place. When
other folks are enjoying themselves you hire yourself out. It's
greediness!"
"Devil a bit of it! Not much to be greedy over -- two roubles is
all he gives me; a necktie as an extra. . . . It's poverty, not
greediness. And it would be jolly, now, you know, to be going
with a party to the service, and then to break the fast. . . .
To drink and to have a bit of supper and tumble off to sleep. . .
. One sits down to the table, there's an Easter cake and the
samovar hissing, and some charming little thing beside you. . . .
The Schoolmistress and Other Stories |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Secret Places of the Heart by H. G. Wells: "But all my days now I shall mourn for him and long for
him. . . . "
She turned back to the coffin. Suddenly she lost every
vestige of self-control. She sank down on her knees beside
the trestle. "Why have you left me!" she cried.
"Oh! Speak to me, my darling! Speak to me, I TELL YOU! Speak
to me!"
It was a storm of passion, monstrously childish and dreadful.
She beat her hands upon the coffin. She wept loudly and
fiercely as a child does....
Dr. Martineau drifted feebly to the window.
|
