| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen: noon.
Chapter 45
Convinced as Elizabeth now was that Miss Bingley's dislike of
her had originated in jealousy, she could not help feeling how
unwelcome her appearance at Pemberley must be to her, and
was curious to know with how much civility on that lady's side
the acquaintance would now be renewed.
On reaching the house, they were shown through the hall into
the saloon, whose northern aspect rendered it delightful for
summer. Its windows opening to the ground, admitted a most
refreshing view of the high woody hills behind the house, and
Pride and Prejudice |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Protagoras by Plato: them is to be corrected, or, in other words, called to account, which is a
term used not only in your country, but also in many others, seeing that
justice calls men to account. Now when there is all this care about virtue
private and public, why, Socrates, do you still wonder and doubt whether
virtue can be taught? Cease to wonder, for the opposite would be far more
surprising.
But why then do the sons of good fathers often turn out ill? There is
nothing very wonderful in this; for, as I have been saying, the existence
of a state implies that virtue is not any man's private possession. If so
--and nothing can be truer--then I will further ask you to imagine, as an
illustration, some other pursuit or branch of knowledge which may be
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Dark Lady of the Sonnets by George Bernard Shaw: rejecting all the materials that do not fit him, with the ridiculous
result that you have to declare that there are no materials at all
(with your waste-paper basket full of them), ends in leaving
Shakespear with a much worse character than he deserves. For though
it does not greatly matter whether he wrote the lousy Lucy lines or
not, and does not really matter at all whether he got drunk when he
made a night of it with Jonson and Drayton, the sonnets raise an
unpleasant question which does matter a good deal; and the refusal of
the academic Bardolaters to discuss or even mention this question has
had the effect of producing a silent verdict against Shakespear. Mr
Harris tackles the question openly, and has no difficulty whatever in
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