| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Letters of Robert Louis Stevenson by Robert Louis Stevenson: and go on again as it will. - Ever, my dear Bob, your affectionate
cousin,
R. L. STEVENSON.
Letter: TO HENRY JAMES
VAILIMA, JULY 7TH, 1894.
DEAR HENRY JAMES, - I am going to try and dictate to you a letter
or a note, and begin the same without any spark of hope, my mind
being entirely in abeyance. This malady is very bitter on the
literary man. I have had it now coming on for a month, and it
seems to get worse instead of better. If it should prove to be
softening of the brain, a melancholy interest will attach to the
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from When a Man Marries by Mary Roberts Rinehart: vintages. Naturally, the meal was glum enough.
Aunt Selina had had her dinner on the train, so she spent her
time in asking me questions the length of the table, and in
getting acquainted with me. She had brought a bottle of some sort
of medicine downstairs with her, and she took a claret-glassful,
while she talked. The stuff was called Pomona; shall I ever
forget it?
It was Mr. Harbison who first noticed Takahiro. Jimmy's Jap had
been the only thing in the menage that Bella declared she had
hated to leave. But he was doing the strangest things: his
little black eyes shifted nervously, and he looked queer.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Pool in the Desert by Sara Jeanette Duncan: slip fifty yards or so down the mountain-side, but the chimneys (bad
pun coming) are never any more out of drawing than they were before.
'Yet--never forget--the queer little place has a nobility, drawn I
suppose from high standards of conduct in essentials.
'. . .This matter of precedence is a bore for an outsider. I am
very tired of being taken in to dinner by subalterns, because I have
no "official position." Something of the kind was offered me, by
the way, the other day, by a little gunner with red eyelids, in the
Ordnance Department, named McDermott--Captain McDermott. He took my
declining very cheerfully, said he knew Americans didn't like
Englishmen, who hadn't been taught to pronounce their "g's," but
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