| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Proposed Roads To Freedom by Bertrand Russell: somewhat exaggerates what is possible with our
present scientific knowledge, it must nevertheless be
conceded that his contentions contain a very large
measure of truth. In attacking the subject of production
he has shown that he knows what is the really
crucial question. If civilization and progress are to
be compatible with equality, it is necessary that
equality should not involve long hours of painful
toil for little more than the necessaries of life, since,
where there is no leisure, art and science will die and
all progress will become impossible. The objection
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Dead Souls by Nikolai Vasilievich Gogol: everything has failed. Lamenting my misfortune won't help me, but only
action." And with that he decided to begin his career anew, and once
more to arm himself with the weapons of patience and self-denial. The
better to effect this, he had, of course to remove to another town.
Yet somehow, for a while, things miscarried. More than once he found
himself forced to exchange one post for another, and at the briefest
of notice; and all of them were posts of the meanest, the most
wretched, order. Yet, being a man of the utmost nicety of feeling, the
fact that he found himself rubbing shoulders with anything but nice
companions did not prevent him from preserving intact his innate love
of what was decent and seemly, or from cherishing the instinct which
 Dead Souls |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Dead Souls by Nikolai Vasilievich Gogol: him."
"Time was when Ivan Potapitch was a merchant worth half a million
roubles. In everything did he look but for gain, and his affairs
prospered exceedingly, so much so that he was able to send his son to
be educated in France, and to marry his daughter to a General. And
whether in his office or at the Exchange, he would stop any friend
whom he encountered and carry him off to a tavern to drink, and spend
whole days thus employed. But at last he became bankrupt, and God sent
him other misfortunes also. His son! Ah, well! Ivan Potapitch is now
my steward, for he had to begin life over again. Yet once more his
affairs are in order, and, had it been his wish, he could have
 Dead Souls |