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Today's Stichomancy for Ambrose Bierce

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Spirit of the Border by Zane Grey:

have failed to see he knew that some terrible anger hovered over the Village of Peace.

"I believe you, Wetzel, but I can not go," said Heckewelder, with white face.

"I will stay," said George, steadily.

"And I," said Dave.

Wetzel nodded, and turned to depart when George grasped his arm. The young missionary's face was drawn and haggard; he fixed an intense gaze upon the hunter.

"Wetzel, listen;" his voice was low and shaken with deep feeling. "I am a teacher of God's word, and I am as earnest in that purpose as you are in your life-work. I shall die here; I shall fill an unmarked grave; but I shall have


The Spirit of the Border
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Herland by Charlotte Gilman:

with it personally it is Lato, or Amel, without dragging in its ancestors."

"But have you names enough to give a new one to each child?"

"Assuredly we have, for each living generation."

Then they asked about our methods, and found first that "we" did so and so, and then that other nations did differently. Upon which they wanted to know which method has been proved best--and we had to admit that so far as we knew there had been no attempt at comparison, each people pursuing its own custom in the fond conviction of superiority, and either despising or quite ignoring the others.

With these women the most salient quality in all their


Herland
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Tales of Unrest by Joseph Conrad:

between my teeth. I, armed, I fled before a breath--to you. Take me away to your land. The wise old man has died, and with him is gone the power of his words and charms. And I can tell no one. No one. There is no one here faithful enough and wise enough to know. It is only near you, unbelievers, that my trouble fades like a mist under the eye of day."

He turned to me.

"With you I go!" he cried in a contained voice. "With you, who know so many of us. I want to leave this land--my people . . . and him--there!"

He pointed a shaking finger at random over his shoulder. It was hard


Tales of Unrest