| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Meno by Plato: they abide with us they are beautiful and fruitful, but they run away out
of the human soul, and do not remain long, and therefore they are not of
much value until they are fastened by the tie of the cause; and this
fastening of them, friend Meno, is recollection, as you and I have agreed
to call it. But when they are bound, in the first place, they have the
nature of knowledge; and, in the second place, they are abiding. And this
is why knowledge is more honourable and excellent than true opinion,
because fastened by a chain.
MENO: What you are saying, Socrates, seems to be very like the truth.
SOCRATES: I too speak rather in ignorance; I only conjecture. And yet
that knowledge differs from true opinion is no matter of conjecture with
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Son of Tarzan by Edgar Rice Burroughs: the lion from his prey--his rifle was ready in his hand. And then
the lion came into view behind the girl's pony. Hanson could
not understand. He knew that if Numa had succeeded in seizing
the girl he would not have continued in pursuit of the others.
He drew in his own mount, took quick aim and fired. The lion
stopped in his tracks, turned and bit at his side, then rolled
over dead. Hanson rode on into the forest, calling aloud to
the girl.
"Here I am," came a quick response from the foliage of the
trees just ahead. "Did you hit him?"
"Yes," replied Hanson. "Where are you? You had a mighty
The Son of Tarzan |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte: dared not try the doors lest the dogs should raise an alarm; she
visited the empty chambers and examined their windows; and,
luckily, lighting on her mother's, she got easily out of its
lattice, and on to the ground, by means of the fir-tree close by.
Her accomplice suffered for his share in the escape,
notwithstanding his timid contrivances.
CHAPTER XXIX
THE evening after the funeral, my young lady and I were seated in
the library; now musing mournfully - one of us despairingly - on
our loss, now venturing conjectures as to the gloomy future.
We had just agreed the best destiny which could await Catherine
Wuthering Heights |
