| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Protagoras by Plato: him back, not knowing what to do with him. And I could mention numberless
other instances of persons who were good themselves, and never yet made any
one else good, whether friend or stranger. Now I, Protagoras, having these
examples before me, am inclined to think that virtue cannot be taught. But
then again, when I listen to your words, I waver; and am disposed to think
that there must be something in what you say, because I know that you have
great experience, and learning, and invention. And I wish that you would,
if possible, show me a little more clearly that virtue can be taught. Will
you be so good?
That I will, Socrates, and gladly. But what would you like? Shall I, as
an elder, speak to you as younger men in an apologue or myth, or shall I
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy: in which her father joined more moderately.
"Be civil to him, and I'll do the rest," she said when she had
recovered seriousness. "He told me this morning that his head
ached fit to burst, and he hardly seemed to know where he was.
And no wonder, considering how he mixed his drink last night.
We must keep him jolly and cheerful here for a day or two,
and not let him go back to his lodging. Whatever you advance I'll
pay back to you again. But I must go up and see how he is now,
poor deary."
Arabella ascended the stairs, softly opened the door of the
first bedroom, and peeped in. Finding that her shorn Samson
Jude the Obscure |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Beast in the Jungle by Henry James: birthday. This anniversary had fallen on a Sunday, at a season of
thick fog and general outward gloom; but he had brought her his
customary offering, having known her now long enough to have
established a hundred small traditions. It was one of his proofs
to himself, the present he made her on her birthday, that he hadn't
sunk into real selfishness. It was mostly nothing more than a
small trinket, but it was always fine of its kind, and he was
regularly careful to pay for it more than he thought he could
afford. "Our habit saves you, at least, don't you see?" because it
makes you, after all, for the vulgar, indistinguishable from other
men. What's the most inveterate mark of men in general? Why the
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