| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Apology by Xenophon: mere good-for-nothing, worthless alike to his city, his friends, and
himself. As to Anytus, even though the grave has closed upon him, his
evil reputation still survives him, due alike to his son's base
bringing-up and his own want of human feeling.
Socrates did, it is true, by his self-laudation draw down upon him the
jealousy of the court and caused his judges all the more to record
their votes against him. Yet even so I look upon the lot of destiny
which he obtained as providential,[58] chancing as he did upon the
easiest amidst the many shapes of death,[59] and escaping as he did
the one grievous portion of existence. And what a glorious chance,
moreover, he had to display the full strength of his soul, for when
The Apology |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Glimpses of the Moon by Edith Wharton: conversation. But alone with Nick, their old travelling-
companion, they shone out in their native simplicity, and Mr.
Hicks talked soundly of investments, and Mrs. Hicks recalled her
early married days in Apex City, when, on being brought home to
her new house in Aeschylus Avenue, her first thought had been:
"How on earth shall I get all those windows washed?"
The loss of Mr. Buttles had been as serious to them as Nick had
supposed: Mr. Beck could never hope to replace him. Apart from
his mysterious gift of languages, and his almost superhuman
faculty for knowing how to address letters to eminent people,
and in what terms to conclude them, he had a smattering of
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from St. Ives by Robert Louis Stevenson: accustomed marks of familiarity. The one extreme looked like
impudence, and might annoy, the other was a practical confession of
guilt. Altogether, it was a good hour for me when the dusk began
to fall in earnest on the streets of Edinburgh, and the voice of an
early watchman bade me set forth.
I reached the neighbourhood of the cottage before seven; and as I
breasted the steep ascent which leads to the garden wall, I was
struck with surprise to hear a dog. Dogs I had heard before, but
only from the hamlet on the hillside above. Now, this dog was in
the garden itself, where it roared aloud in paroxysms of fury, and
I could hear it leaping and straining on the chain. I waited some
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