| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Prince by Nicolo Machiavelli: described as a city with two opposite currents of life, one directed
by the fervent and austere Savonarola, the other by the splendour-
loving Lorenzo. Savonarola's influence upon the young Machiavelli must
have been slight, for although at one time he wielded immense power
over the fortunes of Florence, he only furnished Machiavelli with a
subject of a gibe in "The Prince," where he is cited as an example of
an unarmed prophet who came to a bad end. Whereas the magnificence of
the Medicean rule during the life of Lorenzo appeared to have
impressed Machiavelli strongly, for he frequently recurs to it in his
writings, and it is to Lorenzo's grandson that he dedicates "The
Prince."
The Prince |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Lesser Bourgeoisie by Honore de Balzac: of these evenings, beholding his dear and noble Felix already wedded
to Celeste.
But Celeste, the more she loved Felix, the more grave and serious she
became with him; partly because her mother sharply lectured her,
saying to her one evening:--
"Don't give any hope whatever to that young Phellion. Neither your
father nor I can arrange your marriage. You have expectations to be
consulted. It is much less important to please a professor without a
penny than to make sure of the affection and good-will of Mademoiselle
Brigitte and your godfather. If you don't want to kill your mother--
yes, my dear, kill her--you must obey me in this affair blindly; and
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Princess of Parms by Edgar Rice Burroughs: the center of my chest and coming out below the shoulder.
As I had lunged I had turned so that his sword merely
passed beneath the muscles, inflicting a painful but not
dangerous wound.
Removing the blade from my body I also regained my
own, and turning my back upon his ugly carcass, I moved,
sick, sore, and disgusted, toward the chariots which bore my
retinue and my belongings. A murmur of Martian applause
greeted me, but I cared not for it.
Bleeding and weak I reached my women, who, accustomed to
such happenings, dressed my wounds, applying the wonderful
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