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Today's Stichomancy for Jennifer Love Hewitt

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Damaged Goods by Upton Sinclair:

stop before a shop, and nine times out of ten, there you are! A funny thing is that the men--you'd imagine they had agreed on the words to approach you with. They have only two phrases; they never vary them. It's either, 'You are going fast, little one.' Or it's, 'Aren't you afraid all alone?' One thing or the other. One knows pretty well what they mean. Isn't it so?" The girl paused, then went on. "Again, I would get myself up as a young widow. There, too, one has to walk fast: I don't know why that should be so, but it is. After a minute or two of conversation, they generally find out that I am not a young widow, but that doesn't make any difference--they go on just the same."

The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Octopus by Frank Norris:

belong to his world. In the picture of that huge romantic West that he saw in his imagination, these dissensions made the one note of harsh colour that refused to enter into the great scheme of harmony. It was material, sordid, deadly commonplace. But, however he strove to shut his eyes to it or his ears to it, the thing persisted and persisted. The romance seemed complete up to that point. There it broke, there it failed, there it became realism, grim, unlovely, unyielding. To be true--and it was the first article of his creed to be unflinchingly true--he could not ignore it. All the noble poetry of the ranch--the valley--seemed in his mind to be marred and disfigured by the presence of

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Bucolics by Virgil:

To out-sing Phoebus?

MENALCAS

Do you first begin, Good Mopsus, whether minded to sing aught Of Phyllis and her loves, or Alcon's praise, Or to fling taunts at Codrus. Come, begin, While Tityrus watches o'er the grazing kids.

MOPSUS Nay, then, I will essay what late I carved On a green beech-tree's rind, playing by turns, And marking down the notes; then afterward