| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Barlaam and Ioasaph by St. John of Damascus: faithful servant, before whom thou hast granted to me, thine
unprofitable servant, to stand. Deliver him from all vanity, and
all despiteful treatment of the adversary, and set him clear of
the many-meshed nets which the wicked one spreadeth abroad for to
trip all them that would full fain be saved. Destroy, Almighty
Lord, all the might of the deceiver from before the face of thy
servant, and grant him authority to trample on the baneful head
of the enemy of our souls. Send down from on high the grace of
thy Holy Spirit; and strengthen him against the invisible hosts,
that he may receive at thy hands the crown of victory, and that
in him thy name may be glorified, the Father, the Son, and the
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Gorgias by Plato: order that he may get through the argument. Which of the arts then are
flatteries? Flute-playing, harp-playing, choral exhibitions, the
dithyrambics of Cinesias are all equally condemned on the ground that they
give pleasure only; and Meles the harp-player, who was the father of
Cinesias, failed even in that. The stately muse of Tragedy is bent upon
pleasure, and not upon improvement. Poetry in general is only a rhetorical
address to a mixed audience of men, women, and children. And the orators
are very far from speaking with a view to what is best; their way is to
humour the assembly as if they were children.
Callicles replies, that this is only true of some of them; others have a
real regard for their fellow-citizens. Granted; then there are two species
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from In a German Pension by Katherine Mansfield: splitting the damp pine logs into little chips. "That's why I'm not
awake."
The oven took a long time to light. Perhaps it was cold, like herself, and
sleepy...Perhaps it had been dreaming of a little white road with black
trees on either side, a little road that led to nowhere.
Then the door was pulled violently open and the Man strode in.
"Here, what are you doing, sitting on the floor?" he shouted. "Give me my
coffee. I've got to be off. Ugh! You haven't even washed over the
table."
She sprang to her feet, poured his coffee into an enamel cup, and gave him
bread and a knife, then, taking a wash rag from the sink, smeared over the
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