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Today's Stichomancy for T. E. Lawrence

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Emerald City of Oz by L. Frank Baum:

for I have noticed that the happiest people are those who do not let their brains oppress them."

"Mine never worry me," Jack Pumpkinhead acknowledged. "There are many seeds of thought in my head, but they do not sprout easily. I am glad that it is so, for if I occupied my days in thinking I should have no time for anything else."

In this cheery mood they passed the hours until the first golden streaks of dawn appeared in the sky. Then Ozma joined them, as fresh and lovely as ever and robed in one of her prettiest gowns.

"Our enemies have not yet arrived," said the Scarecrow, after greeting affectionately the sweet and girlish Ruler.

The Emerald City of Oz
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Lin McLean by Owen Wister:

now gave me (I must own to it) a horrible chill. I had no pistol-- nothing. In the hateful brightness of the moon my single thought was "House! House!" and I fled across the lane in my underclothes to the cabin, when round the corner whirled the two cow-punchers, and I understood. I saw the Virginian catch sight of me in my shirt, and saw his teeth as he smiled. I hastened to my blankets, and returned more decent to stand and watch the two go shooting and yelling round the cabin, crazy with their youth. The door was opened, and Taylor courageously emerged, bearing a Winchester. He fired at the sky immediately.

"B' gosh!" he roared. "That's one." He fired again. "Out and at 'em.

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Rewards and Fairies by Rudyard Kipling:

his full towering height - no mean man, but frail beyond belief.

'The King turned to the tables, and held him out his own cup of wine. The old man drank, and beckoned behind him, and, before all the Normans, my Hugh bore away the empty cup, Saxon- fashion, upon the knee.

"It is Harold!" said De Aquila. "His own stiff-necked blood kneels to serve him.

"Be it so," said Henry. "Sit, then, thou that hast been Harold of England."

'The madman sat, and hard, dark Henry looked at him between half-shut eyes. We others stared like oxen, all but De Aquila, who