| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from On Horsemanship by Xenophon: There is, it is true, a treatise on horsemanship written by Simon, the
same who dedicated the bronze horse near the Eleusinion in Athens[2]
with a representation of his exploits engraved in relief on the
pedestal.[3] But we shall not on that account expunge from our
treatise any conclusions in which we happen to agree with that author;
on the contrary we shall hand them on with still greater pleasure to
our friends, in the belief that we shall only gain in authority from
the fact that so great an expert in horsemanship held similar views to
our own; whilst with regard to matters omitted in his treatise, we
shall endeavour to supply them.
[2] L. Dind. [in Athens]. The Eleusinion. For the position of this
On Horsemanship |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Chessmen of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs: The girl drew herself to her full height. "The Jed of Gathol
forgets himself," she exclaimed haughtily.
"The Jed of Gathol would forget everything but you, Tara of
Helium," he replied. Fiercely he pressed the soft hand that he
still retained from the last position of the dance. "I love you,
Tara of Helium," he repeated. "Why should your ears refuse to
hear what your eyes but just now did not refuse to see--and
answer?"
"What meanest thou?" she cried. "Are the men of Gathol such
boors, then?"
"They are neither boors nor fools," he replied, quietly. "They
The Chessmen of Mars |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Vendetta by Honore de Balzac: Just at this moment the loud cries of the vendors of newspapers came
up from the street: "Condemned to death!" They all trembled, and the
soldier was the first to hear a name that turned him pale.
"Labedoyere!" he cried, falling on a stool.
They looked at each other in silence. Drops gathered on the livid
forehead of the young man; he seized the black tufts of his hair in
one hand with a gesture of despair, and rested his elbow on Ginevra's
easel.
"After all," he said, rising abruptly, "Labedoyere and I knew what we
were doing. We were certain of the fate that awaited us, whether from
triumph or defeat. He dies for the Cause, and here am I, hiding
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