| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Profits of Religion by Upton Sinclair: wage slave from the material point of view alone, I hold it
beyond question that the average lot of the chattel slave of 1860
was preferable to that of the modern slave of the Beef Trust, the
Steel Trust, or the Coal Trust. It was the Southern master's real
concern, his business interest, that the chattel slave should be
kept physically sound; but it is nobody's business to care
anything about the wage slave. The children of the chattel slave
were valuable property, and so they got plenty to eat, and a
happy outdoor life, and medical attention if they fell ill. But
the children of the sweat-shop or the cotton-mill or the
canning-factory are raised in a city slum, and never know what it
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Princess of Parms by Edgar Rice Burroughs: vocations. Thereafter I saw little of them, nor did I care to.
CHAPTER XIII
LOVE-MAKING ON MARS
Following the battle with the air ships, the community
remained within the city for several days, abandoning the
homeward march until they could feel reasonably assured
that the ships would not return; for to be caught on the
open plains with a cavalcade of chariots and children was
far from the desire of even so warlike a people as the green
Martians.
During our period of inactivity, Tars Tarkas had instructed
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Don Quixote by Miquel de Cervantes: time he sang:
Come Death, so subtly veiled that I
Thy coming know not, how or when,
Lest it should give me life again
To find how sweet it is to die.
-and other verses and burdens of the same sort, such as enchant when
sung and fascinate when written. And then, when they condescend to
compose a sort of verse that was at that time in vogue in Kandy, which
they call seguidillas! Then it is that hearts leap and laughter breaks
forth, and the body grows restless and all the senses turn
quicksilver. And so I say, sirs, that these troubadours richly deserve
Don Quixote |
