| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Euthyphro by Plato: whether you really believe that they are true.
EUTHYPHRO: Yes, Socrates; and things more wonderful still, of which the
world is in ignorance.
SOCRATES: And do you really believe that the gods fought with one
another, and had dire quarrels, battles, and the like, as the poets
say, and as you may see represented in the works of great artists? The
temples are full of them; and notably the robe of Athene, which is
carried up to the Acropolis at the great Panathenaea, is embroidered
with them. Are all these tales of the gods true, Euthyphro?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes, Socrates; and, as I was saying, I can tell you, if you
would like to hear them, many other things about the gods which
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Love and Friendship by Jane Austen: Miss Jane--. Although I have been acquainted with this charming
Woman above fifteen Years, yet I never before observed how lovely
she is. She is now about 35, and in spite of sickness, sorrow
and Time is more blooming than I ever saw a Girl of 17. I was
delighted with her, the moment she entered the house, and she
appeared equally pleased with me, attaching herself to me during
the remainder of the day. There is something so sweet, so mild in
her Countenance, that she seems more than Mortal. Her
Conversation is as bewitching as her appearance; I could not help
telling her how much she engaged my admiration--. "Oh! Miss
Jane (said I)--and stopped from an inability at the moment of
Love and Friendship |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Street of Seven Stars by Mary Roberts Rinehart: doing a sort of ungainly dance--a sprinkle of wax, right foot
forward and back, left foot forward and back, both feet forward
and back in a sort of double shuffle; more wax, more vigorous
polishing, more singing, with longer pauses for breath. "
'Knowest thou the land where the lemon trees bloom?' " he
bellowed--sprinkle of wax, right foot, left foot, any foot at
all. Now and then he took the score from his pocket and pored
over it, humming the air, raising his eyebrows over the high
notes, dropping his chin to the low ones. It was a wonderful
morning. Between greetings to neighbors he sang--a bit of talk, a
bit of song.
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