| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Aesop's Fables by Aesop: the Beasts. When the two armies were collected together the Bat
hesitated which to join. The Birds that passed his perch said:
"Come with us"; but he said: "I am a Beast." Later on, some
Beasts who were passing underneath him looked up and said: "Come
with us"; but he said: "I am a Bird." Luckily at the last moment
peace was made, and no battle took place, so the Bat came to the
Birds and wished to join in the rejoicings, but they all turned
against him and he had to fly away. He then went to the Beasts,
but soon had to beat a retreat, or else they would have torn him
to pieces. "Ah," said the Bat, "I see now,
"He that is neither one thing nor the other has no friends."
Aesop's Fables |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Enemies of Books by William Blades: In the first ten leaves the weak worms are left behind;
in the second ten there are still forty-eight eaters;
these are reduced to thirty-one in the third ten, and to only
eighteen in the fourth ten. On folio 51 only six worms hold on,
and before folio 61 two of them have given in. Before reaching
folio 7, it is a neck and neck race between two sturdy gourmands,
each making a fine large hole, one of them being oval in shape.
At folio 71 they are still neck and neck, and at folio 81 the same.
At folio 87 the oval worm gives in, the round one eating
three more leaves and part way through the fourth.
The leaves of the book are then untouched until we reach
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Street of Seven Stars by Mary Roberts Rinehart: cumulative happiness. Peter did not wish to swallow all his cake
in one bite.
For once he did not slam the outer door, although he very nearly
did, and only caught it at the cost of a bruised finger. Inside
he listened. There was no clatter of dishes, no scurrying back
and forth from table to stove in the final excitement of dishing
up. There was, however, a highly agreeable odor of stewing
chicken, a crisp smell of baking biscuit.
In the darkened hall Peter had to pause to steady himself. For he
had a sudden mad impulse to shout Harmony's name, to hold out his
arms, to call her to him there in the warm darkness, and when she
|
