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Today's Stichomancy for Ridley Scott

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Golden Sayings of Epictetus by Epictetus:

would have placed my Good therein. But now He hath not done so: therefore I cannot transgress one jot of His commands. In everything hold fast to that which is thy Good--but to all else (as far as is given thee) within the measure of Reason only, contented with this alone. Else thou wilt meet with failure, ill success, let and hindrance. These are the Laws ordained of God-- these are His Edicts; these a man should expound and interpret; to these submit himself, not to the laws of Masurius and Cassius.

CXLV

Remember that not the love of power and wealth sets us under


The Golden Sayings of Epictetus
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Pathology of Lying, Etc. by William and Mary Healy:

of formal tests. We found her to be a fluent and remarkably logical and coherent conversationalist. Her choice of words was unusually good. Questioned about this she said she had always made it a point to cultivate a vocabulary and was particularly fond of the use of correct English. (This was all the more interesting because we later knew that she had been living recently with somewhat illiterate people and that her original home offered her very little in the way of educational advantages.) Inez told us that she had earlier carried her desire for self-expression in language to the point of writing stories and plays, but we were never able to get her to do

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Poems of William Blake by William Blake:

Why should the mistress of the vales of Har, utter a sigh.

She ceasd & smild in tears, then sat down in her silver shrine.

Thel answerd, O thou little virgin of the peaceful valley. Giving to those that cannot crave, the voiceless, the o'er tired The breath doth nourish the innocent lamb, he smells the milky garments He crops thy flowers while thou sittest smiling in his face, Wiping his mild and meekin mouth from all contagious taints. Thy wine doth purify the golden honey; thy perfume. Which thou dost scatter on every little blade of grass that springs Revives the milked cow, & tames the fire-breathing steed. But Thel is like a faint cloud kindled at the rising sun:


Poems of William Blake