| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Theaetetus by Plato: again unwittingly expose ourselves to the reproach of talking childishly.
THEODORUS: I will do my best to avoid that error.
SOCRATES: In the first place, let us return to our old objection, and see
whether we were right in blaming and taking offence at Protagoras on the
ground that he assumed all to be equal and sufficient in wisdom; although
he admitted that there was a better and worse, and that in respect of this,
some who as he said were the wise excelled others.
THEODORUS: Very true.
SOCRATES: Had Protagoras been living and answered for himself, instead of
our answering for him, there would have been no need of our reviewing or
reinforcing the argument. But as he is not here, and some one may accuse
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Facino Cane by Honore de Balzac: between by which to cross the chamber. Banks of silver coins
surrounded the walls to the height of five feet.
"I thought the jailer would go mad. He sang and laughed and danced and
capered among the gold, till I threatened to strangle him if he made a
sound or wasted time. In his joy he did not notice at first the table
where the diamonds lay. I flung myself upon these, and deftly filled
the pockets of my sailor jacket and trousers with the stones. Ah!
Heaven, I did not take the third of them. Gold ingots lay underneath
the table. I persuaded my companion to fill as many bags as we could
carry with the gold, and made him understand that this was our only
chance of escaping detection abroad.
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Faith of Men by Jack London: point to glance often over his shoulder.
Men marvelled when Leclere refused large money for the dog. "Some
day you'll kill him and be out his price," said John Hamlin once,
when Batard lay panting in the snow where Leclere had kicked him,
and no one knew whether his ribs were broken, and no one dared look
to see.
"Dat," said Leclere, dryly, "dat is my biz'ness, M'sieu'."
And the men marvelled that Batard did not run away. They did not
understand. But Leclere understood. He was a man who lived much
in the open, beyond the sound of human tongue, and he had learned
the voices of wind and storm, the sigh of night, the whisper of
|
