| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Virginibus Puerisque by Robert Louis Stevenson: diligently now, and acquire a stock of knowledge; for when
years come upon you, you will find that poring upon books will
be but an irksome task." The old gentleman seems to have been
unaware that many other things besides reading grow irksome,
and not a few become impossible, by the time a man has to use
spectacles and cannot walk without a stick. Books are good
enough in their own way, but they are a mighty bloodless
substitute for life. It seems a pity to sit, like the Lady of
Shalott, peering into a mirror, with your back turned on all
the bustle and glamour of reality. And if a man reads very
hard, as the old anecdote reminds us, he will have little time
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Patchwork Girl of Oz by L. Frank Baum: "What does the Liquid of Petrifaction do?"
inquired the boy.
"Turns everything it touches to solid marble.
It's an invention of my own, and I find it very
useful. Once two of those dreadful Kalidahs,
with bodies like bears and heads like tigers,
came here from the forest to attack us; but I
sprinkled some of that Liquid on them and
instantly they turned to marble. I now use them
as ornamental statuary in my garden. This table
looks to you like wood, and once it really was
The Patchwork Girl of Oz |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Kwaidan by Lafcadio Hearn: the sleeves of the maidens at play seems a flutter of wide, soft wings. In
Horai nothing is hidden but grief, because there is no reason for shame;--
and nothing is locked away, because there could not be any theft;-- and by
night as well as by day all doors remain unbarred, because there is no
reason for fear. And because the people are fairies -- though mortal -- all
things in Horai, except the Palace of the Dragon-King, are small and quaint
and queer;-- and these fairy-folk do really eat their rice out of very,
very small bowls, and drink their wine out of very, very small cups...
-- Much of this seeming would be due to the inhalation of that ghostly
atmosphere -- but not all. For the spell wrought by the dead is only the
charm of an Ideal, the glamour of an ancient hope;-- and something of that
Kwaidan |
