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Today's Stichomancy for John Travolta

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Firm of Nucingen by Honore de Balzac:

to operate certain nice little shares carefully hoarded in his private office till the time came for putting them on the market. The shareholders' money floated the concern, and paid for splendid business premises, so they began operations. And Nucingen held in reserve founders' shares in Heaven knows what coal and argentiferous lead-mines, also in a couple of canals; the shares had been given to him for bringing out the concerns. All four were in working order, well got up and popular, for they paid good dividends.

"Nucingen might, of course, count on getting the differences if the shares went up, but this formed no part of the Baron's schemes; he left the shares at sea-level on the market to tempt the fishes.

The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Wyoming by William MacLeod Raine:

his cousin, and his ribald eyes coasted back to bold scrutiny of this young woman's charming, buoyant youth. There was Something in his face that sent a flush of shame coursing through her rich blood. No man had ever looked at her like that before.

"Take awful good care of him," he sneered, with so plain an implication of evil that her clean blood boiled. "But I know y'u will, and don't let him go before he's real strong."

"No," she murmured, hating herself for the flush that bathed her.

He bowed like a Chesterfield, and went out with elastic heels, spurs clicking.

Helen turned fiercely on her guest. "Why did you make me insist

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Jerusalem Delivered by Torquato Tasso:

In uncouth arms yclad and strange disguise, From countries far, but new arrived there, A savage tigress on her helmet lies, The famous badge Clorinda used to bear; That wonts in every warlike stowre to win, By which bright sign well known was that fair inn.

XXXIX She scorned the arts these silly women use, Another thought her nobler humor fed, Her lofty hand would of itself refuse To touch the dainty needle or nice thread,