| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath by H. P. Lovecraft: out from the seven lodges by the garden gates, there issue from
the seven doors of the temple long columns of masked and hooded
priests in black, bearing at arm's length before them great golden
bowls from which a curious steam rises. And all the seven columns
strut peculiarly in single file, legs thrown far forward without
bending the knees, down the walks that lead to the seven lodges,
wherein they disappear and do not appear again. It is said that
subterrene paths connect the lodges with the temple, and that
the long files of priests return through them; nor is it unwhispered
that deep flights of onyx steps go down to mysteries that are
never told. But only a few are those who hint that the priests
The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Crowd by Gustave le Bon: endeavour is to take note of its utterances. The destinies of
nations are elaborated at present in the heart of the masses, and
no longer in the councils of princes.
The entry of the popular classes into political life--that is to
say, in reality, their progressive transformation into governing
classes--is one of the most striking characteristics of our epoch
of transition. The introduction of universal suffrage, which
exercised for a long time but little influence, is not, as might
be thought, the distinguishing feature of this transference of
political power. The progressive growth of the power of the
masses took place at first by the propagation of certain ideas,
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Riders of the Purple Sage by Zane Grey: last fight for the principles of my youth--love of religion, love
of father. You don't know--you can't guess the truth, and I can't
speak ill. I'm losing all. I'm changing. All I've gone through is
nothing to this hour. Pity me-- help me in my weakness. You're
strong again--oh, so cruelly, coldly strong! You're killing me. I
see you--feel you as some other Lassiter! My master, be
merciful--spare him!"
His answer was a ruthless smile.
She clung the closer to him, and leaned her panting breast on
him, and lifted her face to his. "Lassiter, I do love you! It's
leaped out of my agony. It comes suddenly with a terrible blow of
Riders of the Purple Sage |
