| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Lay Morals by Robert Louis Stevenson: to squander it? A more sturdy honesty, joined to a more even
and impartial temperament, would have drawn from these
considerations a new force of industry, that this equivocal
position might be brought as swiftly as possible to an end,
and some good services to mankind justify the appropriation
of expense. It was not so with my friend, who was only
unsettled and discouraged, and filled full of that trumpeting
anger with which young men regard injustices in the first
blush of youth; although in a few years they will tamely
acquiesce in their existence, and knowingly profit by their
complications. Yet all this while he suffered many indignant
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Lay Morals by Robert Louis Stevenson: smarts, as you say. And then, I have a good wife, you see,
and a bit of a brat - a little thing, so high.'
'Don't move,' said Mr. Archer.
'No, sir, I will not, and thank you kindly,' said Oglethorpe.
'At York they are. A very good lass is my wife - far too
good for me. And the little rascal - well, I don't know how
to say it, but he sort of comes round you. If I were to go,
sir, it would be hard on my poor girl - main hard on her!'
'Ay, you must feel bitter hardly to the rogue that laid you
here,' said Archer.
'Why, no, sir, more against Engleton and the passengers,'
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Man against the Sky by Edwin Arlington Robinson: "That's all, my son. Were I to talk for half a hundred years
I'd never clear away from there the cloud that never clears.
We buried what was left of it, -- the bar, too, and the chains;
And only for the apple tree there's nothing that remains."
Forty years ago it was I heard the old man say,
"That's all, my son." -- And here again I find the place to-day,
Deserted and told only by the tree that knows the most,
And overgrown with golden-rod as if there were no ghost.
Hillcrest
(To Mrs. Edward MacDowell)
No sound of any storm that shakes
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