Sometimes, I feel discriminated against, but it does not make me angry. It merely    21    me. How can any deny themselves the pleasure of my company! It's beyond me. But in themain, I feel like a brown bag of    22    propped against a wall. Against a wall in companywith other bags, white, red, and sellow. Pour out the contents, and there is discovered ajumble of small things priceless and vorbless. A first-water diamond, an empty spool, bits ofbroken glass, lengths of string, a key to a door long since    23    away, a rusty knife-blade, oldshoes saved for a road that never was and never will be, a nail bent under the weight of thingstoo heavy for any nail, a dricd flower or two, still a litle fragrant. In your hand is the brownbag. On the ground before you is the jumble it held---so much like the jumble in the bags,could they be emptied, that all might be dumped in a single heap and the bags refilled    24    altering the content of any greatly. A bit of colored glass more or less would not matter.   25    that is how the Great Stuffer of Bags filled them in the first place-who knows?
【題組】21.
(A) antagonizes
(B) astonishes
(C) explodes
(D) corrupts