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Today's Stichomancy for Dick Cheney

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from End of the Tether by Joseph Conrad:

flimsy sheds of rushes and coarse grass eked out with a few ragged mats--were hidden out of sight from the open sea. No glow of their household fires ever kindled for a seaman a red spark upon the blind night of the group: and the calms of the coast, the flaming long calms of the equator, the unbreathing, concentrated calms like the deep introspection of a passionate nature, brooded awfully for days and weeks together over the unchangeable inheritance of their children; till at last the stones, hot like live embers, scorched the naked sole, till the water clung warm, and sickly, and as if thick-

End of the Tether
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Wheels of Chance by H. G. Wells:




If you (presuming you are of the sex that does such things)--if you had gone into the Drapery Emporium--which is really only magnificent for shop--of Messrs. Antrobus & Co.--a perfectly fictitious "Co.," by the bye--of Putney, on the 14th of August, 1895, had turned to the right-hand side, where the blocks of white linen and piles of blankets rise up to the rail from which the pink and blue prints depend, you might have been served by the central figure of this story that is now beginning. He would

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Poems of William Blake by William Blake:

The Lilly of the valley breathing in the humble grass Answerd the lovely maid and said: I am a watry weed, And I am very small and love to dwell in lowly vales: So weak the gilded butterfly scarce perches on my head Yet I am visited from heaven and he that smiles on all Walks in the valley, and each morn over me spreads his hand Saying, rejoice thou humble grass, thou new-born lily flower. Thou gentle maid of silent valleys and of modest brooks: For thou shall be clothed in light, and fed with morning manna: Till summers heat melts thee beside the fountains and the springs To flourish in eternal vales: they why should Thel complain.

Poems of William Blake