| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions by Edwin A. Abbot: Now in the case of (1) the Merchant, what shall I see? I shall see
a straight line DAE, in which the middle point (A) will be very bright
because it is nearest to me; but on either side the line will
shade away RAPIDLY INTO DIMNESS, because the sides AC and AB
RECEDE RAPIDLY INTO THE FOG and what appear to me as
the Merchant's extremities, viz. D and E, will be VERY DIM INDEED.
On the other hand in the case of (2) the Physician, though I shall
here also see a line (D'A'E') with a bright centre (A'),
yet it will shade away LESS RAPIDLY into dimness, because the sides
(A'C', A'B') RECEDE LESS RAPIDLY INTO THE FOG: and what appear
to me the Physician's extremities, viz. D' and E', will not be
Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Lost Continent by Edgar Rice Burroughs: utter and appalling devastation the Great War must have
wrought to have erased not only every sign of civilization
from the face of this great land, but even the name of the
enemy from the knowledge and language of the people.
I could only account for it on the hypothesis that the
country had been entirely depopulated except for a few
scattered and forgotten children, who, in some marvelous
manner, had been preserved by Providence to re-populate the
land. These children had, doubtless, been too young to
retain in their memories to transmit to their children any
but the vaguest suggestion of the cataclysm which had
Lost Continent |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Roads of Destiny by O. Henry: "I picked it up, sir, at the side of the road." The vagabond handed
the card to Grandemont. "Just a little to eat, sir. A little parched
corn, a /tortilla/, or a handful of beans. Goat's meat I cannot eat.
When I cut their throats they cry like children."
Grandemont held up the card. It was one of his own invitations to
dinner. No doubt some one had cast it away from a passing carriage
after comparing it with the tenantless house of Charleroi.
"From the hedges and highways bid them come," he said to himself,
softly smiling. And then to Absalom: "Send Louis to me."
Louis, once his own body-servant, came promptly, in his white jacket.
"This gentleman," said Grandemont, "will dine with me. Furnish him
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