| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Princess of Parms by Edgar Rice Burroughs: have been a prisoner among the green men and am on my
way to Zodanga. All I ask is food and rest for myself and
my calot and the proper directions for reaching my destination."
They lowered their rifles and advanced pleasantly toward
me placing their right hands upon my left shoulder, after the
manner of their custom of salute, and asking me many questions
about myself and my wanderings. They then took me to the
house of one of them which was only a short distance away.
The buildings I had been hammering at in the early
morning were occupied only by stock and farm produce,
the house proper standing among a grove of enormous trees,
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Bab:A Sub-Deb, Mary Roberts Rinehart by Mary Roberts Rinehart: "You take them right down the back stairs," I said. "As if it was
an empty box. And put it outside with the waist papers. Quick."
She gathered the thing up, but of course mother had to come in just
then and they met in the doorway. She saw it all in one glance, and
she snatched the card out of my hand.
"From H----!" she read. "Take them out, Hannah, and throw them
away. No, don't do that. Put them on the Servant's table." Then,
when the door had closed, she turned to me. "Just one more
ridiculous Episode of this kind, Barbara," she said, "and you go
back to school--Xmas or no Xmas."
I will say this. If she had shown the faintest softness, I'd have
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Coxon Fund by Henry James: not having even in primal bewilderments made a mistake about the
essence of the man. He had an incomparable gift; I never was blind
to it--it dazzles me still. It dazzles me perhaps even more in
remembrance than in fact, for I'm not unaware that for so rare a
subject the imagination goes to some expense, inserting a jewel
here and there or giving a twist to a plume. How the art of
portraiture would rejoice in this figure if the art of portraiture
had only the canvas! Nature, in truth, had largely rounded it, and
if memory, hovering about it, sometimes holds her breath, this is
because the voice that comes back was really golden.
Though the great man was an inmate and didn't dress, he kept dinner
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