| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Tapestried Chamber by Walter Scott: weary vigils, and that dubious state which forms the neutral
ground between them. A hundred terrible objects appeared to
haunt me; but there was the great difference betwixt the vision
which I have described, and those which followed, that I knew the
last to be deceptions of my own fancy and over-excited nerves.
"Day at last appeared, and I rose from my bed ill in health and
humiliated in mind. I was ashamed of myself as a man and a
soldier, and still more so at feeling my own extreme desire to
escape from the haunted apartment, which, however, conquered all
other considerations; so that, huddling on my clothes with the
most careless haste, I made my escape from your lordship's
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Lysis by Plato: Yes.
And the hated one, and not the hater, is the enemy?
Clearly.
Then many men are loved by their enemies, and hated by their friends, and
are the friends of their enemies, and the enemies of their friends. Yet
how absurd, my dear friend, or indeed impossible is this paradox of a man
being an enemy to his friend or a friend to his enemy.
I quite agree, Socrates, in what you say.
But if this cannot be, the lover will be the friend of that which is loved?
True.
And the hater will be the enemy of that which is hated?
 Lysis |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte: unfortunate lad is the only one in all this parish that does not
guess how he has been cheated.'
'Well, Mrs. Dean, it will be a charitable deed to tell me something
of my neighbours: I feel I shall not rest if I go to bed; so be
good enough to sit and chat an hour.'
'Oh, certainly, sir! I'll just fetch a little sewing, and then
I'll sit as long as you please. But you've caught cold: I saw you
shivering, and you must have some gruel to drive it out.'
The worthy woman bustled off, and I crouched nearer the fire; my
head felt hot, and the rest of me chill: moreover, I was excited,
almost to a pitch of foolishness, through my nerves and brain.
 Wuthering Heights |