| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Pocket Diary Found in the Snow by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner: terror. This change came in the leaves of the book which followed
the strange and terrible title, "How I was murdered."
Before Muller began to read he felt the covers of the book carefully.
In one of them there was a tiny pocket, in which he found a little
piece of wall paper of a noticeable and distinctly ugly pattern.
The paper had a dark blue ground with clumsy lines of gold on it.
In the pocket he found also a tramway ticket, which had been crushed
and then carefully smoothed out again. After looking at these
papers, Muller replaced them in the cover of the notebook. The book
itself was strongly perfumed with the same odour which had exhaled
from the handkerchief.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Letters of Robert Louis Stevenson by Robert Louis Stevenson: rule, it should have been my death; but after a while my spirit got
up again in a divine frenzy, and has since kicked and spurred my
vile body forward with great emphasis and success.
My new book, THE AMATEUR EMIGRANT, is about half drafted. I don't
know if it will be good, but I think it ought to sell in spite of
the deil and the publishers; for it tells an odd enough experience,
and one, I think, never yet told before. Look for my 'Burns' in
the CORNHILL, and for my 'Story of a Lie' in Paul's withered babe,
the NEW QUARTERLY. You may have seen the latter ere this reaches
you: tell me if it has any interest, like a good boy, and remember
that it was written at sea in great anxiety of mind. What is your
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin by Robert Louis Stevenson: Alexandria, take a few traits, incidents and pictures.
'May 10, 1859.
'We had a fair wind and we did very well, seeing a little bit of
Cerig or Cythera, and lots of turtle-doves wandering about over the
sea and perching, tired and timid, in the rigging of our little
craft. Then Falconera, Antimilo, and Milo, topped with huge white
clouds, barren, deserted, rising bold and mysterious from the blue,
chafing sea; - Argentiera, Siphano, Scapho, Paros, Antiparos, and
late at night Syra itself. ADAM BEDE in one hand, a sketch-book in
the other, lying on rugs under an awning, I enjoyed a very pleasant
day.
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