| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Expression of Emotion in Man and Animals by Charles Darwin: and excellent observer, and has been communicated to me by him.
The father of this gentleman was a Parisian, and his mother a Scotch lady.
His wife is of British extraction on both sides, and my informant
does not believe that she ever shrugged her shoulders in her life.
His children have been reared in England, and the nursemaid is a
thorough Englishwoman, who has never been seen to shrug her shoulders.
Now, his eldest daughter was observed to shrug her shoulders at the age
of between sixteen and eighteen months; her mother exclaiming at
the time, "Look at the little French girl shrugging her shoulders!"
At first she often acted thus, sometimes throwing her head a little
backwards and on one side, but she did not, as far as was observed,
Expression of Emotion in Man and Animals |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Enemies of Books by William Blades: fate in the world to come. The story is probably an invention
of the enemy to throw discredit on the learning and ability
of the preaching Friars, an Order which was at constant war
with the illiterate secular Clergy. It runs thus:--"In
the year 1439, two Minorite friars who had all their lives
collected books, died. In accordance with popular belief,
they were at once conducted before the heavenly tribunal to hear
their doom, taking with them two asses laden with books.
At Heaven's gate the porter demanded, `Whence came ye?'
The Minorites replied `From a monastery of St. Francis.' `Oh!' said
the porter, `then St. Francis shall be your judge.' So that saint
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Letters of Robert Louis Stevenson by Robert Louis Stevenson: yourself to a clean austerity: that is your force. Wear a linen
ephod, splendidly candid. Arrange its folds, but do not fasten it
with any brooch. I swear to you, in your talking robes, there
should be no patch of adornment; and where the subject forces, let
it force you no further than it must; and be ready with a twinkle
of your pleasantry. Yours is a fine tool, and I see so well how to
hold it; I wonder if you see how to hold mine? But then I am to
the neck in prose, and just now in the 'dark INTERSTYLAR cave,' all
methods and effects wooing me, myself in the midst impotent to
follow any. I look for dawn presently, and a full flowing river of
expression, running whither it wills. But these useless seasons,
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