| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Blue Flower by Henry van Dyke: the shaggy hills; of their riding on the wind-horses and hurling
spears of lightning against their foes. Gods they were not, but
foul spirits of the air, rulers of the darkness. Was there not
glory and honour in fighting them, in daring their anger under
the shield of faith, in putting them to flight with the sword
of truth? What better adventure could a brave man ask than to
go forth against them, and wrestle with them, and conquer
them?
"Look you, my friends," said Winfried, "how sweet and
peaceful is this convent to-night! It is a garden full of
flowers in the heart of winter; a nest among the branches of
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Drama on the Seashore by Honore de Balzac: wife and children too."
"Well, my poor lad, why don't you try to earn more at the salt
marshes, or by carrying the salt to the harbor?"
"Ah, monsieur, I couldn't do that work three months. I am not strong
enough, and if I died my father would have to beg. I am forced to take
a business which only needs a little knack and a great deal of
patience."
"But how can two persons live on twelve sous a day?"
"Oh, monsieur, we eat cakes made of buckwheat, and barnacles which I
get off the rocks."
"How old are you?"
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Lysis by Plato: Whereupon he blushed more and more.
Ctesippus said: I like to see you blushing, Hippothales, and hesitating to
tell Socrates the name; when, if he were with you but for a very short
time, you would have plagued him to death by talking about nothing else.
Indeed, Socrates, he has literally deafened us, and stopped our ears with
the praises of Lysis; and if he is a little intoxicated, there is every
likelihood that we may have our sleep murdered with a cry of Lysis. His
performances in prose are bad enough, but nothing at all in comparison with
his verse; and when he drenches us with his poems and other compositions,
it is really too bad; and worse still is his manner of singing them to his
love; he has a voice which is truly appalling, and we cannot help hearing
Lysis |
