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Today's Stichomancy for Julia Roberts

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Atheist's Mass by Honore de Balzac:

a restaurant. At dessert Bianchon skilfully contrived to talk of the mass, speaking of it as mummery and a farce.

"A farce," said Desplein, "which has cost Christendom more blood than all Napoleon's battles and all Broussais' leeches. The mass is a papal invention, not older than the sixth century, and based on the Hoc est corpus. What floods of blood were shed to establish the Fete-Dieu, the Festival of Corpus Christi--the institution by which Rome established her triumph in the question of the Real Presence, a schism which rent the Church during three centuries! The wars of the Count of Toulouse against the Albigenses were the tail end of that dispute. The Vaudois and the

The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Letters of Robert Louis Stevenson by Robert Louis Stevenson:

all about our gardens: solid, steady blocks of houses; all look empty and asleep.

MONDAY NIGHT. - The drums and fifes up in the Castle are sounding the guard-call through the dark, and there is a great rattle of carriages without. I have had (I must tell you) my bed taken out of this room, so that I am alone in it with my books and two tables, and two chairs, and a coal-skuttle (or SCUTTLE) (?) and a DEBRIS of broken pipes in a corner, and my old school play-box, so full of papers and books that the lid will not shut down, standing reproachfully in the midst. There is something in it that is still a little gaunt and vacant; it needs a little populous disorder over

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Paradise Lost by John Milton:

Those happy places thou hast deigned a while To want, and honour these, vouchsafe with us Two only, who yet by sovran gift possess This spacious ground, in yonder shady bower To rest; and what the garden choicest bears To sit and taste, till this meridian heat Be over, and the sun more cool decline. Whom thus the angelick Virtue answered mild. Adam, I therefore came; nor art thou such Created, or such place hast here to dwell, As may not oft invite, though Spirits of Heaven,


Paradise Lost