| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Democracy In America, Volume 1 by Alexis de Toqueville: history, and how they perished, no one can tell. How strange does
it appear that nations have existed, and afterwards so completely
disappeared from the earth that the remembrance of their very
names is effaced; their languages are lost; their glory is
vanished like a sound without an echo; though perhaps there is
not one which has not left behind it some tomb in memory of its
passage! The most durable monument of human labor is that which
recalls the wretchedness and nothingness of man.
Although the vast country which we have been describing was
inhabited by many indigenous tribes, it may justly be said at the
time of its discovery by Europeans to have formed one great
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Moran of the Lady Letty by Frank Norris: "Come on now, get into them--get into them now, everybody!"
The "Bertha's" Chinamen were all running forward, three of them
well in advance of the others. In the rear Charlie was at
grapples with a beach-comber who fought with a knife in each hand,
and Wilbur had a sudden glimpse of another sitting on the sand
with his hand to his mouth, the blood spurting between his
fingers.
Wilbur suddenly realized that he held a knife, and that he was
directly abreast the sand rampart. How he got the knife he could
not tell, though he afterward distinctly remembered throwing away
his revolver, loaded as it was. He had leaped the breastworks, he
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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: "with" them. She also wrote that she feared a real estrangement
had set in between Mr. Gravener and her sweet young friend--a state
of things but half satisfactory to her so long as the advantage
resulting to Mr. Saltram failed to disengage itself from the merely
nebulous state. She intimated that her sweet young friend was, if
anything, a trifle too reserved; she also intimated that there
might now be an opening for another clever young man. There never
was the slightest opening, I may here parenthesise, and of course
the question can't come up to-day. These are old frustrations now.
Ruth Anvoy hasn't married, I hear, and neither have I. During the
month, toward the end, I wrote to George Gravener to ask if, on a
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