| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Essays & Lectures by Oscar Wilde: there were no kings there and so their art was as noble and simple
as sincere. But if you want to know what kind of art the folly of
kings will impose on a country look at the decorative art of France
under the GRAND MONARQUE, under Louis the Fourteenth; the gaudy
gilt furniture writhing under a sense of its own horror and
ugliness, with a nymph smirking at every angle and a dragon
mouthing on every claw. Unreal and monstrous art this, and fit
only for such periwigged pomposities as the nobility of France at
that time, but not at all fit for you or me. We do not want the
rich to possess more beautiful things but the poor to create more
beautiful things; for ever man is poor who cannot create. Nor
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from An International Episode by Henry James: "And not only that," Bessie went on; "but I hold that all my mistakes shall
be set down to my credit. You must think the better of me for them."
"I can't think better of you than I do," the young man declared.
Bessie Alden looked at him a moment again. "You certainly speak
very well to young ladies. But why don't you address the House?--
isn't that what they call it?"
"Because I have nothing to say," said Lord Lambeth.
"Haven't you a great position?" asked Bessie Alden.
He looked a moment at the back of his glove. "I'll set that down,"
he said, "as one of your mistakes--to your credit." And as if
he disliked talking about his position, he changed the subject.
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Vailima Letters by Robert Louis Stevenson: deal of equanimity. I have, at this moment, but the one
objection to it; the FRACAS with which it proceeds. I do not
love noise; I am like my grandfather in that; and so many
years in these still islands has ingrained the sentiment
perhaps. Here are no trains, only men pacing barefoot. No
carts or carriages; at worst the rattle of a horse's shoes
among the rocks. Beautiful silence; and so soon as this
robustious rain takes off, I am to drink of it again by
oceanfuls.
APRIL 16TH.
Several pages of this letter destroyed as beneath scorn; the
|
