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Today's Stichomancy for Nicky Hilton

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Apology by Xenophon:

touch of weakness, but with gaiety welcomed death's embrace, and discharged life's debt.

[58] Lit. "dear to the gods"; "highly favoured."

[59] Cf. Hom. "Od." xii. 341, {pantes men stugeroi thanatoi deiloisi brotoisin}.

[60] {prosantes}, i.e. "he faced death boldly as he had encountered life's blessings blandly." "As he had been no stoic to repudiate life's blessings, so he was no coward to," etc.

For myself indeed, as I lay to mind the wisdom of the man and his nobility, I can neither forget him nor, remembering him, forbear to praise him. But if any of those who make virtue their pursuit have


The Apology
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Spirit of the Border by Zane Grey:

frills. Near him lay an Indian blanket, from the border of which peered two faces, gleaming white and sad in the pitying moonlight.

The watcher quivered at the sight of those pale faces; but he must wait while long moments passed. He must wait for the Avenger to creep up, silently kill the guard, and release the prisoners without awakening the savages. If that plan failed, he was to rush into the glade, and in the excitement make off with one of the captives.

He lay there waiting, listening, wrought up to the intensest pitch of fierce passion. Every nerve was alert, every tendon strung, and every muscle strained ready for the leap.

Only the faint rustling of leaves, the low swish of swaying branches, the soft


The Spirit of the Border
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Essays of Travel by Robert Louis Stevenson:

rivers, furious in their brevity. All degrees of skill and courage and taste may be suited in your neighbourhood. But perhaps the true way to toboggan is alone and at night. First comes the tedious climb, dragging your instrument behind you. Next a long breathing- space, alone with snow and pinewoods, cold, silent and solemn to the heart. Then you push of; the toboggan fetches way; she begins to feel the hill, to glide, to, swim, to gallop. In a breath you are out from under the pine trees, and a whole heavenful of stars reels and flashes overhead. Then comes a vicious effort; for by this time your wooden steed is speeding like the wind, and you are spinning round a corner, and the whole glittering valley and all the lights in