|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Anabasis by Xenophon:
pupil of Socrates. He marched with the Spartans,
and was exiled from Athens. Sparta gave him land
and property in Scillus, where he lived for many
years before having to move once more, to settle
in Corinth. He died in 354 B.C.
The Anabasis is his story of the march to Persia
to aid Cyrus, who enlisted Greek help to try and
take the throne from Artaxerxes, and the ensuing
return of the Greeks, in which Xenophon played a
leading role. This occurred between 401 B.C. and
March 399 B.C.
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Tattine by Ruth Ogden [Mrs. Charles W. Ide]:
It would have been easier for those who had charge of them if one or the other
had held back now and then, and set a slower pace, but as that was not their
nature and could not be helped, everybody tried to make the best of them, and
everybody loved them. Tattine did not see how she could ever have lived
without them, for they were almost as much a brother and sister to her as to
each other. This morning hey had come over by invitation for what they called
a Maple-wax morning, and that was exactly what it was, and if you have never
had one of your own, wait till you read about this one of Tattine's, and then
give your dear Mamma no peace until you have had one, either in your kitchen
in town, or in the woods out of town, which is better. One thing is necessary
to its complete enjoyment, however: you must have a "sweet tooth," but as most
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The House of Dust by Conrad Aiken:
And, she who played the same thing later, playing.
She played this tune. And in the middle of it
Abruptly broke it off, letting her hands
Fall in her lap. She sat there so a moment,
With shoulders drooped, then lifted up a rose,
One great white rose, wide opened like a lotos,
And pressed it to her cheek, and closed her eyes.
'You know--we've got to end this--Miriam loves you . . .
If she should ever know, or even guess it,--
What would she do?--Listen!--I'm not absurd . . .
I'm sure of it. If you had eyes, for women--