| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Black Tulip by Alexandre Dumas: "A curse on you!" Cornelius exclaimed, quite beyond himself
with despair, as he gathered, with his trembling fingers,
the remnants of that bulb on which he had rested so many
joys and so many hopes.
"We shall plant the other to-morrow, my dear Mynheer
Cornelius," said Rosa, in a low voice, who understood the
intense grief of the unfortunate tulip-fancier, and who,
with the pure sacred love of her innocent heart, poured
these kind words, like a drop of balm, on the bleeding
wounds of Cornelius.
Chapter 18
The Black Tulip |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte by Karl Marx: extant as "Anglo-Saxon"--of al nations, said to be "Anglo-Saxon," in the
United States least. What we still have from England, much as
appearances may seem to point the other way, is not of our
bone-and-marrow, so to speak, but rather partakes of the nature of
"importations. "We are no more English on account of them than we are
Chinese because we all drink tea.
Of all European nations, France is the on to which we come nearest.
Besides its republican form of government--the directness of its
history, the unity of its actions, the sharpness that marks its internal
development, are all characteristics that find their parallel her best,
and vice versa. In all essentials the study of modern French history,
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Poems of William Blake by William Blake: And said, Alas! I knew not this, and therefore did I weep:
That God would love a Worm I knew, and punish the evil foot
That wilful bruis'd its helpless form: but that he cherish'd it
With milk and oil I never knew, and therefore did I weep,
And I complaind in the mild air, because I fade away.
And lay me down in thy cold bed, and leave my shining lot.
Queen of the vales, the matron Clay answered: I heard thy sighs.
And all thy moans flew o'er my roof, but I have call'd them down:
Wilt thou O Queen enter my house, tis given thee to enter,
And to return: fear nothing, enter with thy virgin feet.
IV.
Poems of William Blake |
