Tarot Runes I Ching Stichomancy Contact
Store Numerology Coin Flip Yes or No Webmasters
Personal Celebrity Biorhythms Bibliomancy Settings

Today's Stichomancy for Martin Scorsese

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Daughter of Eve by Honore de Balzac:

griefs, rising on the wings of his high pleasures, developing her faculties on some vast stage; and all this while living calm, serene, and cold before an observing world. Ah! dearest, what happiness in having at all hours an enormous interest, which multiplies the fibres of the heart and varies them indefinitely! to feel no longer cold indifference! to find one's very life depending on a thousand trifles! --on a walk where an eye will beam to us from a crowd, on a glance which pales the sun! Ah! what intoxication, dear, to live! to LIVE when other women are praying on their knees for emotions that never come to them! Remember, darling, that for this poem of delight there is but a single moment,--youth! In a few years winter comes, and cold.

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:

Aurora, and a rich lilac and crimson variety, which does not seem to agree with either the Lilacinia or Rubicunda of Gosse. A more beautiful living bouquet could hardly be seen, than might be made of the varieties of this single species, from this one place.

On the outside sands between the end of the Marina and the Martello tower, you may find, at very low tides, great numbers of a sand- tube, about three inches long, standing up out of the sand. I do not mean the tubes of the Terebella, so common in all sands, which are somewhat flexible, and have their upper end fringed with a ragged ring of sandy arms: those I speak of are straight and stiff, and ending in a point upward. Draw them out of the sand -

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Bab:A Sub-Deb, Mary Roberts Rinehart by Mary Roberts Rinehart:

Sis was there, curled up in a chair, knitting for the soldiers. Having forgoten the Ball Game, as I have stated, I asked her, in case I had a caller, to go away, which, considering she has the house to herself all winter, I considered not to much.

"A caller!" she said. "Since when have you been allowed to have callers?"

I looked at her steadily.

"I am young," I observed, "and still in the school room, Leila. I admit it, so don't argue. But as I have not taken the veil, and as this is not a Penitentary, I darsav I can see my friends now and anon, especialy when they live next door."

"Oh!" she said. "It's the Gray infant, is it!"