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Today's Stichomancy for Niccolo Machiavelli

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Dark Lady of the Sonnets by George Bernard Shaw:

repeating itself without the slightest variation throughout all eternity; so that he had lived and died and had his goitre before and would live and die and have it again and again and again. He liked to believe that nothing that happened to him was completely novel: he was persuaded that he often had some recollection of its previous occurrence in the last cycle. He hunted out allusions to this favorite theory in his three favorite pessimists. He tried his hand occasionally at deciphering ancient inscriptions, reading them as people seem to read the stars, by discovering bears and bulls and swords and goats where, as it seems to me, no sane human being can see anything but stars higgledy-piggledy. Next to the translation of

The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Market-Place by Harold Frederic:

What I should have said was that if this had been mentioned beforehand to me, I should have explained that it wasn't possible to discuss that particular business."

"But--pardon me"--said Lord Chaldon, in a quiet, very gentle, yet insistent voice, which seemed now to recall to its listeners the fact that sovereigns and chancellors had in their day had attentive ears for its tones--"pardon me, but why should it not be possible?"

Thorpe frowned doubtfully, and shifted his position in his chair. "What could I say, if it were discussed?" he made vague retort. "I'm merely one of the Directors.


The Market-Place
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from McTeague by Frank Norris:

if all the vitality that should have lent them color had been sucked up into the strands and coils of that wonderful hair.

As their eyes met they waved their hands gayly to each other; then McTeague heard Trina and her mother come up the stairs and go into the bedroom of the photographer's suite, where Trina was to dress.

No, no; surely there could be no longer any hesitation. He knew that he loved her. What was the matter with him, that he should have doubted it for an instant? The great difficulty was that she was too good, too adorable, too


McTeague