| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Journal of the Plague Year by Daniel Defoe: by the consequence of it; indeed, namely, by hunger and distress and
the want of all things: being without lodging, without money, without
friends, without means to get their bread, or without anyone to give it
them; for many of them were without what we call legal settlements,
and so could not claim of the parishes, and all the support they had
was by application to the magistrates for relief, which relief was (to
give the magistrates their due) carefully and cheerfully administered
as they found it necessary, and those that stayed behind never felt the
want and distress of that kind which they felt who went away in the
manner above noted.
Let any one who is acquainted with what multitudes of people get
 A Journal of the Plague Year |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Catriona by Robert Louis Stevenson: keep the ones I wanted and that were something worth; I will not be
kissed in penitence."
"What can you be thinking of this miserable girl?" says she.
"What I am trying to tell you all this while!" said I, "that you had
best leave me alone, whom you can make no more unhappy if you tried,
and turn your attention to James More, your father, with whom you are
like to have a queer pirn to wind."
"O, that I must be going out into the world alone with such a man!" she
cried, and seemed to catch herself in with a great effort. "But
trouble yourself no more for that," said she. "He does not know what
kind of nature is in my heart. He will pay me dear for this day of it;
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe: for me, to claim the inheritance, it would be restored; only that
the improvement, or annual production, being distributed to
charitable uses, could not be restored: but he assured me that the
steward of the king's revenue from lands, and the providore, or
steward of the monastery, had taken great care all along that the
incumbent, that is to say my partner, gave every year a faithful
account of the produce, of which they had duly received my moiety.
I asked him if he knew to what height of improvement he had brought
the plantation, and whether he thought it might be worth looking
after; or whether, on my going thither, I should meet with any
obstruction to my possessing my just right in the moiety. He told
 Robinson Crusoe |