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Today's Stichomancy for Barbara Streisand

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Battle of the Books by Jonathan Swift:

that no ill accident will arrive to any in the chief Ministry.

As to the particular events I have mentioned, the readers may judge by the fulfilling of them, whether I am on the level with common astrologers, who, with an old paltry cant, and a few pothooks for planets, to amuse the vulgar, have, in my opinion, too long been suffered to abuse the world. But an honest physician ought not to be despised because there are such things as mountebanks. I hope I have some share of reputation, which I would not willingly forfeit for a frolic or humour; and I believe no gentleman who reads this paper will look upon it to be of the same cast or mould with the common scribblers that are every day hawked about. My fortune has

The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from An Historical Mystery by Honore de Balzac:

petitions for mercy; "how can I take upon myself to withdraw the application for that man. If I suppress the paper I cut off his head."

He held out the petition; de Grandville took it, looked it over, and said:--

"We can't suppress it; but be sure of one thing, if you ask all you will obtain nothing."

"Have we time to consult Michu?" asked Bordin.

"Yes. The order for execution comes from the office of the attorney- general; I will see that you have some days. We kill men," he said with some bitterness, "but at least we do it formally, especially in Paris."

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Desert Gold by Zane Grey:

The raider had no carbine. He held aloft a gun ready to level it and fire. He sat the saddle as if it were a stationary seat. Gale saw Ladd lean down and drop the .405 in the sand. He would take no chances of wounding Belding's best-loved horse.

Then Gale sat transfixed with suspended breath watching the horses thundering toward him. Blanco Diablo was speeding low, fleet as an antelope, fierce and terrible in his devilish action, a horse for war and blood and death. He seemed unbeatable. Yet to see the magnificently running Blanco Sol was but to court a doubt. Gale stood spellbound. He might have shot the raider; but he never thought of such a thing. The distance swiftly lessened. Plain it

Desert Gold