| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Philebus by Plato: inscribing feeling writes truly, then true opinion and true propositions
which are the expressions of opinion come into our souls--but when the
scribe within us writes falsely, the result is false.
PROTARCHUS: I quite assent and agree to your statement.
SOCRATES: I must bespeak your favour also for another artist, who is busy
at the same time in the chambers of the soul.
PROTARCHUS: Who is he?
SOCRATES: The painter, who, after the scribe has done his work, draws
images in the soul of the things which he has described.
PROTARCHUS: But when and how does he do this?
SOCRATES: When a man, besides receiving from sight or some other sense
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Witch, et. al by Anton Chekhov: in the house. The mournful song stirred a longing for life and
freedom. Sofya began to laugh; she thought it sinful and terrible
and sweet to hear about, and she felt envious and sorry that she,
too, had not been a sinner when she was young and pretty.
In the churchyard they heard twelve strokes beaten on the
watchman's board.
"It's time we were asleep," said Sofya, getting up, "or, maybe,
we shall catch it from Dyudya."
They both went softly into the yard.
"I went away without hearing what he was telling about Mashenka,"
said Varvara, making herself a bed under the window.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Tales of Unrest by Joseph Conrad: Pain--humiliation--loss of respect--of friends, of everything that
ennobles life, that . . . All kinds of horrors," he concluded,
abruptly.
She made no stir. He looked at her pensively for some time as though
he had been concentrating the melancholy thoughts evoked by the sight
of that abased woman. His eyes became fixed and dull. He was
profoundly penetrated by the solemnity of the moment; he felt deeply
the greatness of the occasion. And more than ever the walls of his
house seemed to enclose the sacredness of ideals to which he was about
to offer a magnificent sacrifice. He was the high priest of that
temple, the severe guardian of formulas, of rites, of the pure
Tales of Unrest |
