| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Moon-Face and Other Stories by Jack London: see, as he approached, that he was looking at me strangely, but he collided
with the combatants and was hurled headlong to the ground. With despairing
shriek and a cry of "O Lord, I've got 'em!" he sprang to his feet and tore
madly out of the court.
I could do nothing, so I sat up, fascinated and powerless, and watched the
struggle. The noonday sun beat down with dazzling brightness on the naked
tennis court. And it was naked. All I could see was the blotch of shadow and
the rainbow flashes, the dust rising from the invisible feet, the earth
tearing up from beneath the straining foot-grips, and the wire screen bulge
once or twice as their bodies hurled against it. That was all, and after a
time even that ceased. There were no more flashes, and the shadow had become
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Apology by Plato: is an opportunity still for them to appear. But their fathers and brothers
all appear in court (including 'this' Plato), to witness on his behalf; and
if their relatives are corrupted, at least they are uncorrupted; 'and they
are my witnesses. For they know that I am speaking the truth, and that
Meletus is lying.'
This is about all that he has to say. He will not entreat the judges to
spare his life; neither will he present a spectacle of weeping children,
although he, too, is not made of 'rock or oak.' Some of the judges
themselves may have complied with this practice on similar occasions, and
he trusts that they will not be angry with him for not following their
example. But he feels that such conduct brings discredit on the name of
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Coxon Fund by Henry James: which, as obscurely unnatural, I now saw I had never TOO
disconcertedly believed. I began to ask myself how people who
suited each other so little could please each other so much. The
charm was some material charm, some afffinity, exquisite doubtless,
yet superficial some surrender to youth and beauty and passion, to
force and grace and fortune, happy accidents and easy contacts.
They might dote on each other's persons, but how could they know
each other's souls? How could they have the same prejudices, how
could they have the same horizon? Such questions, I confess,
seemed quenched but not answered when, one day in February, going
out to Wimbledon, I found our young lady in the house. A passion
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