| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Voyage to Abyssinia by Father Lobo: The Nile, which the natives call Abavi, that is, the Father of
Waters, rises first in Sacala, a province of the kingdom of Goiama,
which is one of the most fruitful and agreeable of all the
Abyssinian dominions. This province is inhabited by a nation of the
Agaus, who call, but only call, themselves Christians, for by daily
intermarriages they have allied themselves to the Pagan Agaus, and
adopted all their customs and ceremonies. These two nations are
very numerous, fierce, and unconquerable, inhabiting a country full
of mountains, which are covered with woods, and hollowed by nature
into vast caverns, many of which are capable of containing several
numerous families, and hundreds of cows. To these recesses the
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Enemies of Books by William Blades: Children, with all their innocence, are often guilty of book-murder. I
must confess to having once taken down "Humphrey's History of Writing,"
which contains many brightly-coloured plates, to amuse a sick daughter.
The object was certainly gained, but the consequences of so bad
a precedent were disastrous. That copy (which, I am glad to say,
was easily re-placed), notwithstanding great care on my part,
became soiled and torn, and at last was given up to Nursery martyrdom.
Can I regret it? surely not, for, although bibliographically sinful,
who can weigh the amount of real pleasure received, and actual pain ignored,
by the patient in the contemplation of those beautifully-blended colours?
A neighbour of mine some few years ago suffered severely from a propensity,
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Catherine de Medici by Honore de Balzac: be telling my persecutors herself the secrets that I know nothing
about, instead of urging them on."
Hearing that reply, the doctor took his cap and cloak and left
Christophe, rightly judging that he could worm nothing out of a man of
that stamp. The jailer of Blois now ordered the poor lad to be carried
away on a stretcher by four men, who took him to the prison in the
town, where Christophe immediately fell into the deep sleep which,
they say, comes to most mothers after the terrible pangs of
childbirth.
IX
THE TUMULT AT AMBOISE
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