| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Helen of Troy And Other Poems by Sara Teasdale: To thirst against the quiver of a kiss?
Lo, I shall live to conquer Greece again,
To make the people love, who hate me now.
My dreams are over, I have ceased to cry
Against the fate that made men love my mouth
And left their spirits all too deaf to hear
The little songs that echoed through my soul.
I have no anger now. The dreams are done;
Yet since the Greeks and Trojans would not see
Aught but my body's fairness, till the end,
In all the islands set in all the seas,
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Hellenica by Xenophon: bearer, moreover, of a letter with the royal seal attached. It was
addressed to all the populations of Lower Asia, and contained the
following words: "I send down Cyrus as 'Karanos'"[1]--that is to say,
supreme lord--"over all those who muster at Castolus." The ambassadors
of the Athenians, even while listening to this announcement, and
indeed after they had seen Cyrus, were still desirous, if possible, to
continue their journey to the king, or, failing that, to return home.
Cyrus, however, urged upon Pharnabazus either to deliver them up to
himself, or to defer sending them home at present; his object being to
prevent the Athenians learning what was going on. Pharnabazus, wishing
to escape all blame, for the time being detained them, telling them,
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Fanny Herself by Edna Ferber: to them. Babies all over the sidewalks and streets, and the
men who weren't in the mills--you know how they look in
their Sunday shirtsleeves, with their flat faces, and high
cheekbones, and their great brown hands with the broken
nails. Hunkies. Well, at five the motor cars began
whizzing by from the country roads back to Chicago.
You have to go back that way. Just then the five o'clock
whistles blew and the day shift came off. There was a great
army of them, clumping down the road the way they do. Their
shoulders were slack, and their lunch pails dangled, empty,
and they were wet and reeking with sweat. The motor cars
Fanny Herself |
