| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Philebus by Plato: PROTARCHUS: I understand.
SOCRATES: Still there was, as we said, a fourth class to be investigated,
and you must assist in the investigation; for does not everything which
comes into being, of necessity come into being through a cause?
PROTARCHUS: Yes, certainly; for how can there be anything which has no
cause?
SOCRATES: And is not the agent the same as the cause in all except name;
the agent and the cause may be rightly called one?
PROTARCHUS: Very true.
SOCRATES: And the same may be said of the patient, or effect; we shall
find that they too differ, as I was saying, only in name--shall we not?
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Common Sense by Thomas Paine: they will begin to relax in their duty and attachment to each other;
and this remissness will point out the necessity of establishing
some form of government to supply the defect of moral virtue.
Some convenient tree will afford them a State-House, under the branches
of which, the whole colony may assemble to deliberate on public matters.
It is more than probable that their first laws will have the title only
of REGULATIONS, and be enforced by no other penalty than public disesteem.
In this first parliament every man, by natural right, will have a seat.
But as the colony increases, the public concerns will increase
likewise, and the distance at which the members may be separated,
will render it too inconvenient for all of them to meet on
Common Sense |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Hidden Masterpiece by Honore de Balzac: drags cold reason and common souls, and even lovers of art, over stony
and arid places, where for such there is neither pleasure nor
instruction; while to the artistic soul itself,--that white-winged
angel of sportive fancy,--epics, works of art, and visions rise along
the way. It is a nature, an essence, mocking yet kind, fruitful though
destitute. Thus, for the enthusiastic Poussin, the old man became by
sudden transfiguration Art itself,--art with all its secrets, its
transports, and its dreams.
"Yes, my dear Porbus," said Frenhofer, speaking half in reverie, "I
have never yet beheld a perfect woman; a body whose outlines were
faultless and whose flesh-tints--Ah! where lives she?" he cried,
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