| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Gorgias by Plato: And those who have the care of the city should make the citizens as good as
possible. But who would undertake a public building, if he had never had a
teacher of the art of building, and had never constructed a building
before? or who would undertake the duty of state-physician, if he had never
cured either himself or any one else? Should we not examine him before we
entrusted him with the office? And as Callicles is about to enter public
life, should we not examine him? Whom has he made better? For we have
already admitted that this is the statesman's proper business. And we must
ask the same question about Pericles, and Cimon, and Miltiades, and
Themistocles. Whom did they make better? Nay, did not Pericles make the
citizens worse? For he gave them pay, and at first he was very popular
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Maitre Cornelius by Honore de Balzac: In case of mishap, he could not claim the privileges of his rank nor
the protection of his friends without bringing hopeless ruin on the
Comtesse de Saint-Vallier. If her husband suspected the nocturnal
visit of a lover, he was capable of roasting her alive in an iron
cage, or of killing her by degrees in the dungeons of a fortified
castle. Looking down at the shabby clothing in which he had disguised
himself, the young nobleman felt ashamed. His black leather belt, his
stout shoes, his ribbed socks, his linsey-woolsey breeches, and his
gray woollen doublet made him look like the clerk of some poverty-
stricken justice. To a noble of the fifteenth century it was like
death itself to play the part of a beggarly burgher, and renounce the
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Wrecker by Stevenson & Osbourne: the Lloyd's surveyor, had the services of such a one been called
in requisition, must have found abundant subject of remark.
For time, during her three years' inaction, had eaten deep into
the Dream and her fittings; she had sold in consequence a
shade above her value as old junk; and the three adventurers
had scarce been able to afford even the most vital repairs. The
rigging, indeed, had been partly renewed, and the rest set up;
all Grant Sanderson's old canvas had been patched together
into one decently serviceable suit of sails; Grant Sanderson's
masts still stood, and might have wondered at themselves. "I
haven't the heart to tap them," Captain Wicks used to observe,
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