|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Jungle by Upton Sinclair:
and carrying long whips; they were very busy, calling to each other,
and to those who were driving the cattle. They were drovers and stock
raisers, who had come from far states, and brokers and commission
merchants, and buyers for all the big packing houses.
Here and there they would stop to inspect a bunch of cattle, and there
would be a parley, brief and businesslike. The buyer would nod or drop
his whip, and that would mean a bargain; and he would note it in his
little book, along with hundreds of others he had made that morning.
Then Jokubas pointed out the place where the cattle were driven to be
weighed, upon a great scale that would weigh a hundred thousand pounds at
once and record it automatically. It was near to the east entrance that
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Euthydemus by Plato:
two enquirers, Cleinias and Socrates, are described as wandering about in a
wilderness, vainly searching after the art of life and happiness. At last
they fix upon the kingly art, as having the desired sort of knowledge. But
the kingly art only gives men those goods which are neither good nor evil:
and if we say further that it makes us wise, in what does it make us wise?
Not in special arts, such as cobbling or carpentering, but only in itself:
or say again that it makes us good, there is no answer to the question,
'good in what?' At length in despair Cleinias and Socrates turn to the
'Dioscuri' and request their aid.
Euthydemus argues that Socrates knows something; and as he cannot know and
not know, he cannot know some things and not know others, and therefore he
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories by Alice Dunbar:
disappeared down the sands, the red glare of his torch making a
glowing track in the water.
"Ah, Mees Annette," whispered Natalie, between mouthfuls of a
rich croaker, "you have found a beau in the water."
"And the fisherman of the Pass, too," laughed her cousin Ida.
Annette tossed her head, for Philip had growled audibly.
"Do you know, Philip," cried Annette a few days after, rudely
shaking him from his siesta on the gallery,-- "do you know that I
have found my fisherman's hut?"
"Hum," was the only response.
"Yes, and it's the quaintest, most delightful spot imaginable.
The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories