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

Today's Stichomancy for Werner Heisenberg

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Tristram Shandy by Laurence Sterne:

--The most perfect,--Madam, that friendship herself could wish me--

'And drink nothing!--nothing but water?'

--Impetuous fluid! the moment thou pressest against the flood-gates of the brain--see how they give way!--

In swims Curiosity, beckoning to her damsels to follow--they dive into the center of the current--

Fancy sits musing upon the bank, and with her eyes following the stream, turns straws and bulrushes into masts and bow-sprits--And Desire, with vest held up to the knee in one hand, snatches at them, as they swim by her, with the other--

O ye water drinkers! is it then by this delusive fountain, that ye have so

The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Awakening & Selected Short Stories by Kate Chopin:

home. It's too much trouble. I have to keep too many servants. I am tired bothering with them."

"That is not your true reason, ma belle. There is no use in telling me lies. I don't know your reason, but you have not told me the truth." Edna did not protest or endeavor to justify herself.

"The house, the money that provides for it, are not mine. Isn't that enough reason?"

"They are your husband's," returned Mademoiselle, with a shrug and a malicious elevation of the eyebrows.

"Oh! I see there is no deceiving you. Then let me tell you:


Awakening & Selected Short Stories
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Tales and Fantasies by Robert Louis Stevenson:

doorway, the nun rose, gave a low cry, and stood staring. She was a large woman, strong, calm, a little masculine, her features marked with courage and good sense; and as John blinked back at her, a faint resemblance dodged about his memory, as when a tune haunts us, and yet will not be recalled.

'Why, it's John!' cried the nun.

'I dare say I'm mad,' said John, unconsciously following King Lear; 'but, upon my word, I do believe you're Flora.'

'Of course I am,' replied she.

And yet it is not Flora at all, thought John; Flora was