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Today's Stichomancy for Sarah Jessica Parker

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Ruling Passion by Henry van Dyke:


Dan Scott knelt beside his best friend. At a glance he saw that the injury was fatal. "Well done, Pichou!" he murmured, "you fought a good fight."

And the dog, by a brave effort, lifted the head with the black patch on it, for the last time, licked his master', hand, and then dropped back upon the snow--contented, happy, dead.

There is but one drawback to a dog's friendship. It does not last long enough.

End of the story? Well, if you care for the other people in it, you shall hear what became of them. Dan Scott went on to the head of

The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Tristram Shandy by Laurence Sterne:

symptoms,--check thy perspirations--evaporate thy spirits--waste thy animal strength, dry up thy radical moisture, bring thee into a costive habit of body,--impair thy health,--and hasten all the infirmities of thy old age.-- O my uncle! my uncle Toby.

Chapter 1.XXIX.

I would not give a groat for that man's knowledge in pen-craft, who does not understand this,--That the best plain narrative in the world, tacked very close to the last spirited apostrophe to my uncle Toby--would have felt both cold and vapid upon the reader's palate;--therefore I forthwith put an end to the chapter, though I was in the middle of my story.

--Writers of my stamp have one principle in common with painters. Where an

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Fairy Tales by Hans Christian Andersen:

the little boy kissed his hand to the coffin as it was driven away.

Some days afterwards there was an auction at the old house, and the little boy saw from his window how they carried the old knights and the old ladies away, the flower-pots with the long ears, the old chairs, and the old clothes-presses. Something came here, and something came there; the portrait of her who had been found at the broker's came to the broker's again; and there it hung, for no one knew her more--no one cared about the old picture.

In the spring they pulled the house down, for, as people said, it was a ruin. One could see from the street right into the room with the hog's-leather hanging, which was slashed and torn; and the green grass and leaves about the balcony hung quite wild about the falling beams. And then it was put to

Fairy Tales