| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Pathology of Lying, Etc. by William and Mary Healy: the improved cases we have mentioned that it was largely the
acquirement of social foresight which made the first step in a
moral advance which finally won the day. In this whole matter
the first ethical instruction may well be based upon the idea of
self-preservation--after all the backbone of much of our morals.
When it comes to specific details of treatment these must be
educational, alterative, and constructive. In Cases 1 and 3
under treatment we know that when the lying was discovered or
suspected the individual was at once checked up and made to go
over the ground and state the real facts. The pathological liar
ordinarily reacts to the accusation of lying by prevaricating
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The First Men In The Moon by H. G. Wells: for a space everything was still. Then I could hear Cavor puffing and
grunting, and the snapping of a shutter in its sash. I made an effort,
thrust back our blanket-wrapped luggage, and emerged from beneath it. Our
open windows were just visible as a deeper black set with stars.
We were still alive, and we were lying in the darkness of the shadow of
the wall of the great crater into which we had fallen.
We sat getting our breath again, and feeling the bruises on our limbs. I
don't think either of us had had a very clear expectation of such rough
handling as we had received. I struggled painfully to my feet. "And now,"
said I, "to look at the landscape of the moon But It's tremendously dark,
Cavor!"
The First Men In The Moon |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Selected Writings of Guy De Maupassant by Guy De Maupassant: passed the large glass in the hall, which she had put there so
that she might look at herself every day from head to foot as she
went out, to see if her toilette looked well, and was correct and
pretty, from her little boots to her bonnet.
"I stopped short in front of that looking-glass in which she had
so often been reflected--so often, so often, that it must have
retained her reflection. I was standing there. trembling, with my
eyes fixed on the glass--on that flat, profound, empty
glass--which had contained her entirely, and had possessed her as
much as I, as my passionate looks had. I felt as if I loved that
glass. I touched it; it was cold. Oh! the recollection! sorrowful
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