Tarot Runes I Ching Stichomancy Contact
Store Numerology Coin Flip Yes or No Webmasters
Personal Celebrity Biorhythms Bibliomancy Settings

Today's Stichomancy for Donald Rumsfeld

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Battle of the Books by Jonathan Swift:

And saw it fairly twice go round; Yet (what is wonderful) they found 'Twas still replenished to the top, As if they ne'er had touched a drop The good old couple were amazed, And often on each other gazed; For both were frightened to the heart, And just began to cry, - What art! Then softly turned aside to view, Whether the lights were burning blue. The gentle pilgrims soon aware on't,

The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Eryxias by Platonic Imitator:

two witnesses testify to the same fact, one of whom seems to be an honest fellow and the other a rogue, the testimony of the rogue often has the contrary effect on the judges' minds to what he intended, while the same evidence if given by the honest man at once strikes them as perfectly true. And probably the audience have something of the same feeling about yourself and Prodicus; they think him a Sophist and a braggart, and regard you as a gentleman of courtesy and worth. For they do not pay attention to the argument so much as to the character of the speaker.

But truly, Socrates, said Erasistratus, though you may be joking, Critias does seem to me to be saying something which is of weight.

SOCRATES: I am in profound earnest, I assure you. But why, as you have

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Lover's Complaint by William Shakespeare:

Tearing of papers, breaking rings a-twain, Storming her world with sorrow's wind and rain.

Upon her head a platted hive of straw, Which fortified her visage from the sun, Whereon the thought might think sometime it saw The carcase of a beauty spent and done. Time had not scythed all that youth begun, Nor youth all quit; but, spite of Heaven's fell rage Some beauty peeped through lattice of sear'd age.

Oft did she heave her napkin to her eyne, Which on it had conceited characters,