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Today's Stichomancy for George S. Patton

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Varieties of Religious Experience by William James:

it expels all human loves and human uses. There is no English name for such a sweet excess of devotion, so I will refer to it as a theopathic condition.

The blessed Margaret Mary Alacoque may serve as an example.

"To be loved here upon the earth," her recent biographer exclaims: "to be loved by a noble, elevated, distinguished being; to be loved with fidelity, with devotion--what enchantment! But to be loved by God! and loved by him to distraction [aime jusqu'a la folie]!--Margaret melted away with love at the thought of such a thing. Like Saint Philip of Neri in former times, or like Saint Francis Xavier, she said to God:

The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Emma by Jane Austen:

or likely to fall to impede their return, that was a mere joke; he was afraid they would find no difficulty. He wished the road might be impassable, that he might be able to keep them all at Randalls; and with the utmost good-will was sure that accommodation might be found for every body, calling on his wife to agree with him, that with a little contrivance, every body might be lodged, which she hardly knew how to do, from the consciousness of there being but two spare rooms in the house.

"What is to be done, my dear Emma?--what is to be done?" was Mr. Woodhouse's first exclamation, and all that he could say for some time. To her he looked for comfort; and her assurances


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

Entreat you to your wonted furtherance? Then take my soul, my body, soul and all, Before that England give the French the foil.

[They depart.]

See, they forsake me! Now the time is come That France must vail her lofty-plumed crest, And let her head fall into England's lap. My ancient incantations are too weak, And hell too strong for me to buckle with: Now, France, thy glory droopeth to the dust.

[Exit.]