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Today's Stichomancy for Antonio Banderas

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Door in the Wall, et. al. by H. G. Wells:

scarcely remember who I am, what business I am on . . . ."

He paused. "Even now--"

"The dream is always the same--do you mean?" I asked.

"It's over."

"You mean?"

"I died."

"Died?"

"Smashed and killed, and now, so much of me as that dream was, is dead. Dead forever. I dreamt I was another man, you know, living in a different part of the world and in a different time. I dreamt that night after night. Night after night I woke into

The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Symposium by Plato:

all designed to prepare the way for Socrates, who gathers up the threads anew, and skims the highest points of each of them. But they are not to be regarded as the stages of an idea, rising above one another to a climax. They are fanciful, partly facetious performances, 'yet also having a certain measure of seriousness,' which the successive speakers dedicate to the god. All of them are rhetorical and poetical rather than dialectical, but glimpses of truth appear in them. When Eryximachus says that the principles of music are simple in themselves, but confused in their application, he touches lightly upon a difficulty which has troubled the moderns as well as the ancients in music, and may be extended to the other applied sciences. That confusion begins in the concrete, was the natural

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from King Henry VI by William Shakespeare:

Discourse, I prithee, on this turret's top.

TALBOT. The Duke of Bedford had a prisoner Call'd the brave Lord Ponton de Santrailles; For him was I exchanged and ransomed. But with a baser man of arms by far Once in contempt they would have barter'd me: Which I disdaining scorn'd, and craved death Rather than I would be so vile-esteem'd. In fine, redeem'd I was as I desired. But, O! the treacherous Fastolfe wounds my heart,