|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Give Me Liberty Or Give Me Death by Patrick Henry:
of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the House. But different
men often see the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, I hope it
will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen if, entertaining as I do
opinions of a character very opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my
sentiments freely and without reserve. This is no time for ceremony.
The questing before the House is one of awful moment to this country.
For my own part, I consider it as nothing less than a question of
freedom or slavery; and in proportion to the magnitude of the subject
ought to be the freedom of the debate. It is only in this way that
we can hope to arrive at truth, and fulfill the great responsibility
which we hold to God and our country. Should I keep back my opinions
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A treatise on Good Works by Dr. Martin Luther:
surprising if a member of the Electoral house should harbor like
scruples, especially since the full comprehension of Luther's
preaching on good works depended on an evangelical understanding
of faith, as deep as was Luther's own. The Middle Ages had
differentiated between fides informis, a formless faith, and
fides formata or informata, a formed or ornate faith. The former
was held to be a knowledge without any life or effect, the latter
to be identical with love for, as they said, love which proves
itself and is effective in good works must be added to the
formless faith, as its complement and its content, well pleasing
to God. In Luther's time every one who was seriously interested
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Songs of Innocence and Experience by William Blake:
And are gone to praise God and His priest and king,
Who made up a heaven of our misery.'
When the voices of children are heard on the green,
And whisperings are in the dale,
The days of my youth rise fresh in my mind,
My face turns green and pale.
Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down,
And the dews of night arise;
Your spring and your day are wasted in play,
And your winter and night in disguise.
Songs of Innocence and Experience