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Today's Stichomancy for Arthur E. Waite

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Return of the Native by Thomas Hardy:

said the captain shortly; after which he walked away.

"I say, Sam," observed Humphrey when the old man was gone, "she and Clym Yeobright would make a very pretty pigeon-pair--hey? If they wouldn't I'll be dazed! Both of one mind about niceties for certain, and learned in print, and always thinking about high doctrine--there couldn't be a better couple if they were made o' purpose. Clym's family is as good as hers. His father was a farmer, that's true; but his mother was a sort of lady, as we know. Nothing would please me better than to see them two man and wife."

"They'd look very natty, arm-in-crook together,


Return of the Native
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Purse by Honore de Balzac:

found you lying motionless on the ground. My mother went to fetch what was needed to bathe your head and revive you. You have cut your forehead--there. Do you feel it?"

"Yes, I do now," he replied.

"Oh, it will be nothing," said the old mother. "Happily your head rested against this lay-figure."

"I feel infinitely better," replied the painter. "I need nothing further but a hackney cab to take me home. The porter's wife will go for one."

He tried to repeat his thanks to the two strangers; but at each sentence the elder lady interrupted him, saying, "Tomorrow,

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Before Adam by Jack London:

shaped by the merest chance. We did not know it was our river--there was no way of telling; and if we had never crossed it we would most probably have never returned to the horde; and I, the modern, the thousand centuries yet to be born, would never have been born .

And yet Lop-Ear and I wanted greatly to return. We had experienced homesickness on our journey, the yearning for our own kind and land; and often had I had recollections of the Swift One, the young female who made soft sounds, whom it was good to be with, and who lived by herself nobody knew where. My recollections