| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Fables by Robert Louis Stevenson: "Dear me!" said the physician. "This is very sad. But I perceive
I must explain to you the action of my paint. A broken bone is a
mighty small affair at the worst of it; and it belongs to a class
of accident to which my paint is quite inapplicable. Sin, my dear
young friend, sin is the sole calamity that a wise man should
apprehend; it is against sin that I have fitted you out; and when
you come to be tempted, you will give me news of my paint."
"Oh!" said the young man, "I did not understand that, and it seems
rather disappointing. But I have no doubt all is for the best; and
in the meanwhile, I shall be obliged to you if you will set my
leg."
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Contrast by Royall Tyler: out the vanities of the world upon the tenter-hooks of
temptation? I believe you have not heard how they
were acting the old boy one night, and the wicked one
came among them sure enough, and went right off
in a storm, and carried one quarter of the play-house
with him. Oh! no, no, no! you won't catch me at a
play-house, I warrant you.
JENNY
Well, Mr. Jonathan, though I don't scruple your
veracity, I have some reasons for believing you were
there: pray, where were you about six o'clock?
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Hidden Masterpiece by Honore de Balzac: blame you for admiring Porbus's saint. It is a masterpiece for the
world at large; only those who are behind the veil of the holy of
holies can perceive its errors. But you are worthy of a lesson, and
capable of understanding it. I will show you how little is needed to
turn that picture into a true masterpiece. Give all your eyes and all
your attention; such a chance of instruction may never fall in your
way again. Your palette, Porbus."
Porbus fetched his palette and brushes. The little old man turned up
his cuffs with convulsive haste, slipped his thumb through the palette
charged with prismatic colors, and snatched, rather than took, the
handful of brushes which Porbus held out to him. As he did so his
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