The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Where There's A Will by Mary Roberts Rinehart: "Sorry," I said. "Have to have a written order from Mr. Pierce."
He put a silver dollar on the desk between us and looked at me
over it.
"Will that open the case?" he asked. But I shook my head.
"Well, I'll be hanged! What the devil sort of order did he give
you?"
"He said," I repeated, "that I'd be coaxed and probably bribed to
open the cigar case, and that you'd probably be the first
one to do it, but I was to stick firm; you've been smoking too
much, and your nerves are going."
"Insolent young puppy!" he exclaimed angrily, and stamped away.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from My Aunt Margaret's Mirror by Walter Scott: of expression. Even these charms faded under the sufferings
attendant on an ill-assorted match. She was passionately
attached to her husband, by whom she was treated with a callous
yet polite indifference, which, to one whose heart was as tender
as her judgment was weak, was more painful perhaps than absolute
ill-usage. Sir Philip was a voluptuary--that is, a completely
selfish egotist--whose disposition and character resembled the
rapier he wore, polished, keen, and brilliant, but inflexible and
unpitying. As he observed carefully all the usual forms towards
his lady, he had the art to deprive her even of the compassion of
the world; and useless and unavailing as that may be while
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Essays of Travel by Robert Louis Stevenson: his last sleep. It is worth noticing, however, that this was the
first place I thought 'Highland-looking.' Over the bill from
Kirkoswald a farm-road leads to the coast. As I came down above
Turnberry, the sea view was indeed strangely different from the day
before. The cold fogs were all blown away; and there was Ailsa
Craig, like a refraction, magnified and deformed, of the Bass Rock;
and there were the chiselled mountain-tops of Arran, veined and
tipped with snow; and behind, and fainter, the low, blue land of
Cantyre. Cottony clouds stood in a great castle over the top of
Arran, and blew out in long streamers to the south. The sea was
bitten all over with white; little ships, tacking up and down the
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