| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Lysis by Plato: easily slips in and permeates our souls. For I affirm that the good is the
beautiful. You will agree to that?
Yes.
This I say from a sort of notion that what is neither good nor evil is the
friend of the beautiful and the good, and I will tell you why I am inclined
to think so: I assume that there are three principles--the good, the bad,
and that which is neither good nor bad. You would agree--would you not?
I agree.
And neither is the good the friend of the good, nor the evil of the evil,
nor the good of the evil;--these alternatives are excluded by the previous
argument; and therefore, if there be such a thing as friendship or love at
Lysis |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus by L. Frank Baum: stretched out his great right arm as if determined on doing some
mighty deed. For a thought had come to him so grand in its conception
that all the world might well bow before the Master Woodsman and honor
his name forever!
It is well known that when the great Ak once undertakes to do a
thing he never hesitates an instant. Now he summoned his fleetest
messengers, and sent them in a flash to many parts of the earth.
And when they were gone he turned to the anxious Necile and
comforted her, saying:
"Be of good heart, my child; our friend still lives. And now run to
your Queen and tell her that I have summoned a council of all the
The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Edingburgh Picturesque Notes by Robert Louis Stevenson: upon the brake, the thought of its length and the many
ponderous edifices and open thoroughfares above, were
certainly things of paramount impressiveness to a young
mind. It was a subterranean passage, although of a
larger bore than we were accustomed to in Ainsworth's
novels; and these two words, 'subterreanean passage,'
were in themselves an irresistible attraction, and seemed
to bring us nearer in spirit to the heroes we loved and
the black rascals we secretly aspired to imitate. To
scale the Castle Rock from West Princes Street Gardens,
and lay a triumphal hand against the rampart itself, was
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