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Today's Stichomancy for Pierce Brosnan

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Misalliance by George Bernard Shaw:

HYPATIA. _[coming out of the swing, and advancing between Percival and Lord Summerhays]_ I must say that you have behaved like a perfect gentleman, Mr. Percival.

PERCIVAL. _[first bowing to Hypatia, and then turning with cold contempt to Gunner, who is standing helpless]_ We need not trouble you any further. _[Gunner turns vaguely towards the pavilion]._

JOHNNY _[with less refined offensiveness, pointing to the pavilion]_ Thats your way. The gardener will shew you the shortest way into the road. Go the shortest way.

GUNNER. _[oppressed and disconcerted, hardly knows how to get out of the room]_ Yes, sir. I-- _[He turns again, appealing to Tarleton]_

The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Return of the Native by Thomas Hardy:

Like in form, it had the added softness and finish of a Raffaelle after Perugino, which, while faithfully reproducing the original subject, entirely distances the original art.

Charley's eyes rounded with surprise. "Well, you be a clever lady!" he said, in admiration. "I've been three weeks learning mine."

"I have heard it before," she quietly observed. "Now, would you do anything to please me, Charley?"

"I'd do a good deal, miss."

"Would you let me play your part for one night?"


Return of the Native
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Ballads by Robert Louis Stevenson:

In the early fall of the night, Hiopa came to the shore, And beheld and counted the comers, and lo, they were forty score: The pelting feet of the babes that ran already and played, The clean-lipped smile of the boy, the slender breasts of the maid, And mighty limbs of women, stalwart mothers of men. The sires stood forth unabashed; but a little back from his ken Clustered the scarcely nubile, the lads and maids, in a ring, Fain of each other, afraid of themselves, aware of the king And aping behaviour, but clinging together with hands and eyes, With looks that were kind like kisses, and laughter tender as sighs. There, too, the grandsire stood, raising his silver crest,


Ballads