| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Pathology of Lying, Etc. by William and Mary Healy: him. He understood well that evidences of his unreliability
would count against him. His stories, although often repeated,
were not credited, and later, after a home had been found for
him, he began a new series of lies that seemed almost delusional
and somewhat paranoidal. After months during which much had been
done for him it was suddenly discovered that he was an epileptic.
John F. appealed to an agency for assistance. He told a story of
having wandered with his brother since he was a young boy. ``My
father was insane from what my uncle did to my mother. He
drowned her. The house caught on fire and he blamed her for it.
She said she didn't. She was too sick to get up and he took her
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Recruit by Honore de Balzac: denunciation."
She looked at him with a stupid air that might have made a tiger
pitiful.
"I will prove," he continued in a kindly voice, "the falsity of the
denunciation, by making a careful search of the premises; and the
nature of my report will protect you in future from all suspicions. I
will speak of your patriotic gifts, your civic virtues, and that will
save you."
Madame de Dey feared a trap, and she stood motionless; but her face
was on fire, and her tongue stiff in her mouth. A rap sounded on the
door.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Wrong Box by Stevenson & Osbourne: passed Christchurch by the sea, Herne with its pinewoods,
Ringwood on its mazy river. A little behind time, but not much
for the South-Western, it drew up at the platform of a station,
in the midst of the New Forest, the real name of which (in case
the railway company 'might have the law of me') I shall veil
under the alias of Browndean.
Many passengers put their heads to the window, and among the rest
an old gentleman on whom I willingly dwell, for I am nearly done
with him now, and (in the whole course of the present narrative)
I am not in the least likely to meet another character so decent.
His name is immaterial, not so his habits. He had passed his life
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