| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Ozma of Oz by L. Frank Baum: missed her, or knew of her strange adventure. Down into a valley
between the waves the coop swept her, and when she climbed another
crest the ship looked like a toy boat, it was such a long way off.
Soon it had entirely disappeared in the gloom, and then Dorothy gave a
sigh of regret at parting with Uncle Henry and began to wonder what
was going to happen to her next.
Just now she was tossing on the bosom of a big ocean, with nothing to
keep her afloat but a miserable wooden hen-coop that had a plank
bottom and slatted sides, through which the water constantly splashed
and wetted her through to the skin! And there was nothing to eat when
she became hungry--as she was sure to do before long--and no fresh
 Ozma of Oz |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Timaeus by Plato: the world in a Jewish sense, as they really found the personality of God or
of mind, and the immortality of the soul. All religions and philosophies
met and mingled in the schools of Alexandria, and the Neo-Platonists had a
method of interpretation which could elicit any meaning out of any words.
They were really incapable of distinguishing between the opinions of one
philosopher and another--between Aristotle and Plato, or between the
serious thoughts of Plato and his passing fancies. They were absorbed in
his theology and were under the dominion of his name, while that which was
truly great and truly characteristic in him, his effort to realize and
connect abstractions, was not understood by them at all. Yet the genius of
Plato and Greek philosophy reacted upon the East, and a Greek element of
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Witch, et. al by Anton Chekhov: child, kissing him, she began saying -- and it was hard to say
whether she were laughing or crying:
"It's from granny, from grandfather," she said. "From the
country. . . . The Heavenly Mother, Saints and Martyrs! The snow
lies heaped up under the roofs now . . . the trees are as white
as white. The boys slide on little sledges . . . and dear old
bald grandfather is on the stove . . . and there is a little
yellow dog. . . . My own darlings!"
Andrey Hrisanfitch, hearing this, recalled that his wife had on
three or four occasions given him letters and asked him to send
them to the country, but some important business had always
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