The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Early Short Fiction of Edith Wharton by Edith Wharton: and squabbling. Every witness who was called corroborated Anne
de Cornault's statement that there were no dogs at Kerfol: had
been none for several months. The master of the house had taken
a dislike to dogs, there was no denying it. But, on the other
hand, at the inquest, there had been long and bitter discussion
as to the nature of the dead man's wounds. One of the surgeons
called in had spoken of marks that looked like bites. The
suggestion of witchcraft was revived, and the opposing lawyers
hurled tomes of necromancy at each other.
At last Anne de Cornault was brought back into court--at the
instance of the same Judge--and asked if she knew where the dogs
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Padre Ignacio by Owen Wister: digestion, a bed; but the doors stood open, and, as everybody was passing
within them, more variety was to be gained by joining this company than
by waiting outside alone until they should return from their devotions.
So he seated himself in a corner near the entrance, and after a brief,
jaunty glance at the sunburned, shaggy congregation, made himself as
comfortable as might be. He had not seen a face worth keeping his eyes
open for. The simple choir and simple fold, gathered for even-song, paid
him no attention--a rough American bound for the mines was but an object
of aversion to them.
The Padre, of course, had been instantly aware of the stranger's
presence. To be aware of unaccustomed presences is the sixth sense with
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Fisherman's Luck by Henry van Dyke: anything to incur his enmity. It was enough to be upright and
sincere and successful, to waken the wrath of this Shimei.
Integrity was an offence to him, and excellence of any kind filled
him with spleen. There was no good cause within his horizon that he
did not give a bad word to, and no decent man in the community whom
he did not try either to use or to abuse. To listen to him or to
read what he had written was to learn to think a little worse of
every one that he mentioned, and worst of all of him. He had the
air of a gentleman, the vocabulary of a scholar, the style of a
Junius, and the heart of a Thersites.
Talk, in such company, is impossible. The sense of something evil,
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