| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Second Inaugural Address by Abraham Lincoln: The Almighty has his own purposes. "Woe unto the world because
of offenses! for it must needs be that offenses come; but woe
to that man by whom the offense cometh." If we shall suppose
that American slavery is one of those offenses which, in the
providence of God, must needs come, but which, having continued
through his appointed time, he now wills to remove, and that he
gives to both North and South this terrible war, as the woe due
to those by whom the offense came, shall we discern therein any
departure from those divine attributes which the believers in a
living God always ascribe to him? Fondly do we hope--fervently
do we pray--that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away.
Second Inaugural Address |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Thus Spake Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche: with revenge, thy poison maketh the soul giddy!
Thus do I speak unto you in parable, ye who make the soul giddy, ye
preachers of EQUALITY! Tarantulas are ye unto me, and secretly revengeful
ones!
But I will soon bring your hiding-places to the light: therefore do I
laugh in your face my laughter of the height.
Therefore do I tear at your web, that your rage may lure you out of your
den of lies, and that your revenge may leap forth from behind your word
"justice."
Because, FOR MAN TO BE REDEEMED FROM REVENGE--that is for me the bridge to
the highest hope, and a rainbow after long storms.
Thus Spake Zarathustra |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Beauty and The Beast by Bayard Taylor: between the hills. It was an almost impenetrable thicket, spangled
with tall autumnal flowers. The eupatoriums, with their purple
crowns, stood like young trees, with an undergrowth of aster
and blue spikes of lobelia, tangled in a golden mesh of dodder. A
strong, mature odor, mixed alike of leaves and flowers, and very
different from the faint, elusive sweetness of spring, filled the
air. The creek, with a few faded leaves dropped upon its bosom,
and films of gossamer streaming from its bushy fringe, gurgled over
the pebbles in its bed. Here and there, on its banks, shone the
deep yellow stars of the flower they sought.
Richard Hilton walked as in a dream, mechanically plucking a stem
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