| 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: against a rising moon. Certainly, men reached Leng from very different
oceans. Of other boundaries of Inquanok those sailors had no notion,
nor had they heard of the cold waste and unknown Kadath save from
vague unplaced report. And of the marvellous sunset city which
Carter sought they knew nothing at all. So the traveller asked
no more of far things, but bided his time till he might talk with
those strange men from cold and twilight Inquanok who are the
seed of such gods as carved their features on Ngranek.
Late
in the day the galleon reached those bends of the river which
traverse the perfumed jungles of Kied. Here Carter wished he might
The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from On Revenues by Xenophon: employed. And so it is to-day with the owners of slaves working in the
mines; no one dreams of reducing the number of his hands. On the
contrary, the object is perpetually to acquire as many additional
hands as the owner possibly can. The fact is that with few hands to
dig and search, the find of treasure will be small, but with an
increase in labour the discovery of the ore itself is more than
proportionally increased. So much so, that of all operations with
which I am acquainted, this is the only one in which no sort of
jealousy is felt at a further development of the industry.[4] I may go
a step farther; every proprietor of a farm will be able to tell you
exactly how many yoke of oxen are sufficient for the estate, and how
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from In the Cage by Henry James: anything square and smooth and whole had its weight for a person
still conscious herself of being a mere bruised fragment of
wreckage. But it contributed hugely at present to carry on the two
parallel lines of her experience in the cage and her experience out
of it. After keeping quiet for some time about this opposition she
suddenly--one Sunday afternoon on a penny chair in the Regent's
Park--broke, for him, capriciously, bewilderingly, into an
intimation of what it came to. He had naturally pressed more and
more on the point of her again placing herself where he could see
her hourly, and for her to recognise that she had as yet given him
no sane reason for delay he had small need to describe himself as
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