| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from God The Invisible King by H. G. Wells: 2. HERESIES OF SPECULATION
One sort of heresies stands apart from the rest. It is infinitely
the most various sort. It includes all those heresies which result
from wrong-headed mental elaboration, as distinguished from those
which are the result of hasty and imperfect apprehension, the
heresies of the clever rather than the heresies of the obtuse. The
former are of endless variety and complexity; the latter are in
comparison natural, simple confusions. The former are the errors of
the study, the latter the superstitions that spring by the wayside,
or are brought down to us in our social structure out of a barbaric
past.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from American Notes by Rudyard Kipling: of these days the respectable Republic will find this out.
Unfortunately we, the English, will never be the people to teach
her; because she is a chartered libertine allowed to say and do
anything she likes, from demanding the head of the empress in an
editorial waste-basket, to chevying Canadian schooners up and
down the Alaska Seas. It is perfectly impossible to go to war
with these people, whatever they may do.
They are much too nice, in the first place, and in the second, it
would throw out all the passenger traffic of the Atlantic, and
upset the financial arrangements of the English syndicates who
have invested their money in breweries, railways, and the like,
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf: with excitement. Or he might sit at the head of the table dead silent
from one end of dinner to the other. Yes, thought James, while the
boat slapped and dawdled there in the hot sun; there was a waste of
snow and rock very lonely and austere; and there he had come to feel,
quite often lately, when his father said something or did something
which surprised the others, there were two pairs of footprints only;
his own and his father's. They alone knew each other. What then was
this terror, which the past had folded in him, peering into the heart
of that forest where light and shade so chequer each other that all
shape is distorted, and one blunders, now with the sun in one's eyes,
now with a dark shadow, he sought an image to cool and detach and round
To the Lighthouse |
