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

Today's Stichomancy for Benjamin Franklin

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Lamentable Tragedy of Locrine and Mucedorus by William Shakespeare:

do you hear, sir, I am but a very young mouse, for my tail is scarce grown out yet; look you here else.

SEGASTO. But, I pray thee, who gave thee that name?

MOUSE. Faith, sir, I know not that, but if you would fain know, ask my father's great horse, for he hath been half a year longer with my father than I have.

SEGASTO. This seems to be a merry fellow; I care not if I take him home with me.

The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Tattine by Ruth Ogden [Mrs. Charles W. Ide]:

same kennel where Doctor and his brothers and sisters had enjoyed their puppy-hood, and then to snuggle up in a round ball close beside them. They were Betsy's puppies for a certainty. There had been no doubt of that from the first glimpse Rudolph gained of them in their dark little hole under the porch. But the next morning came and then what do you suppose happened? A very weak little puppy cry came from under the porch. Another puppy, that was what it meant, and Joseph was very much out of patience, for the trench had been filled up and the foundation-stones carefully replaced.

"Rudolph ought to have made sure how many there were," he said rather growlily.

"But, Joseph, this puppy cry comes from another place way over here, it seems

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Give Me Liberty Or Give Me Death by Patrick Henry:

In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free-- if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending--if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained--we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of hosts is all that is left us!

They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British