| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Sylvie and Bruno by Lewis Carroll: boys. They'd be much less self-conscious as pantomime-fairies.
With all that dressing-up, and stagy-entrances and exits, and being
always en evidence, no wonder if they're eaten up with vanity,
the blatant little coxcombs!"
When we passed the Hall on our return, we found the Earl and Lady
Muriel sitting out in the garden. Eric had gone for a stroll.
We joined them, and the conversation soon turned on the sermon we had
just heard, the subject of which was 'selfishness.'
"What a change has come over our pulpits," Arthur remarked, "since the
time when Paley gave that utterly selfish definition of virtue,
'the doing good to mankind, in obedience to the will of God, and for
Sylvie and Bruno |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Alcibiades I by Plato: orations, are more liable to suspicion than others; those, again, which
have a taste of sophistry in them, or the ring of a later age, or the
slighter character of a rhetorical exercise, or in which a motive or some
affinity to spurious writings can be detected, or which seem to have
originated in a name or statement really occurring in some classical
author, are also of doubtful credit; while there is no instance of any
ancient writing proved to be a forgery, which combines excellence with
length. A really great and original writer would have no object in
fathering his works on Plato; and to the forger or imitator, the 'literary
hack' of Alexandria and Athens, the Gods did not grant originality or
genius. Further, in attempting to balance the evidence for and against a
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Death of the Lion by Henry James: that Mr. Paraday appeared to have contracted to spend with her in
the country. I protested against this visit; I intimated that he
was too unwell for hospitality without a nuance, for caresses
without imagination; I begged he might rather take the time in some
restorative way. A sultry air of promises, of ponderous parties,
hung over his August, and he would greatly profit by the interval
of rest. He hadn't told me he was ill again that he had had a
warning; but I hadn't needed this, for I found his reticence his
worst symptom. The only thing he said to me was that he believed a
comfortable attack of something or other would set him up: it
would put out of the question everything but the exemptions he
|
