| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg by Mark Twain: everybody noticed with distress that the shorthand scribes were
scribbling like mad; many people were crying "Chair, chair! Order!
order!" Burgess rapped with his gavel, and said:
"Let us not forget the proprieties due. There has evidently been a
mistake somewhere, but surely that is all. If Mr. Wilson gave me an
envelope--and I remember now that he did--I still have it."
He took one out of his pocket, opened it, glanced at it, looked
surprised and worried, and stood silent a few moments. Then he
waved his hand in a wandering and mechanical way, and made an effort
or two to say something, then gave it up, despondently. Several
voices cried out:
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Myths and Myth-Makers by John Fiske: jugum; but when we add the English yoke and the Sanskrit
yugam, it is evident that we have got far out of the range of
the Pelasgoi. But what shall we say when we find Mr. Gladstone
citing the Latin thalamus in support of this antiquated
theory? Doubtless the word thalamus is, or should be,
significative of peaceful occupations; but it is not a Latin
word at all, except by adoption. One might as well cite the
word ensemble to prove the original identity or kinship
between English and French.
When Mr. Gladstone, leaving the dangerous ground of pure and
applied philology, confines himself to illustrating the
Myths and Myth-Makers |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Marriage Contract by Honore de Balzac: lover. I would the last kiss that I take from those dear lips were
not a passive one; but, my Ninie, my adored one, I will not wake
you. When you wake, you will find a tear upon your forehead--make
it a talisman! Think, think of him who may, perhaps, die for you,
far from you; think less of the husband than of the lover who
confides you to God.
From the Comtesse de Manerville to her husband:
Dear, beloved one,--Your letter has plunged me into affliction.
Had you the right to take this course, which must affect us
equally, without consulting me? Are you free? Do you not belong to
me? If you must go, why should I not follow you? You show me,
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