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Today's Stichomancy for Gary Cooper

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Two Noble Kinsmen by William Shakespeare:

As windefand Snow, who to thy femall knights Alow'st no more blood than will make a blush, Which is their orders robe: I heere, thy Priest, Am humbled fore thine Altar; O vouchsafe, With that thy rare greene eye, which never yet Beheld thing maculate, looke on thy virgin; And, sacred silver Mistris, lend thine eare (Which nev'r heard scurrill terme, into whose port Ne're entred wanton found,) to my petition Seasond with holy feare: This is my last Of vestall office; I am bride habited,

The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Glaucus/The Wonders of the Shore by Charles Kingsley:

readers to possess such gorgeous living pictures, if as nothing else, still as drawing-room ornaments, flower-gardens which never wither, fairy lakes of perpetual calm which no storm blackens, -

[Greek text which cannot be reproduced]

Those who have never seen one of them can never imagine (and neither Mr. Gosse's pencil nor my clumsy words can ever describe to them) the gorgeous colouring and the grace and delicacy of form which these subaqueous landscapes exhibit.

As for colouring, - the only bit of colour which I can remember even faintly resembling them (for though Correggio's Magdalene may rival them in greens and blues, yet even he has no such crimsons

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Aspern Papers by Henry James:

But when it comes to going on--!"

"Are your rooms too dear? If they are you can have more for the same money," Juliana responded. "We can arrange, we can combinare, as they say here."

"Well yes, since you ask me, they are too dear," I said. "Evidently you suppose me richer than I am."

She looked at me in her barricaded way. "If you write books don't you sell them?"

"Do you mean don't people buy them? A little--not so much as I could wish. Writing books, unless one be a great genius--and even then!--is the last road to fortune. I think there is no more money to be made by literature."

"Perhaps you don't choose good subjects. What do you write about?"