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Today's Stichomancy for Naomi Campbell

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Second Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling:

woods of the North, and presently the voice of the First of the Elephants, which is the voice that we hear now----"

The thunder was rolling up and down the dry, scarred hills, but it brought no rain--only heat--lightning that flickered along the ridges--and Hathi went on: "THAT was the voice he heard, and it said: 'Is this thy mercy?' The First of the Tigers licked his lips and said: 'What matter? I have killed Fear.' And Tha said: 'O blind and foolish! Thou hast untied the feet of Death, and he will follow thy trail till thou diest. Thou hast taught Man to kill!'

"The First of the Tigers, standing stiffly to his kill, said.

The Second Jungle Book
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Ursula by Honore de Balzac:

warnings absurd, I should still feel bound to inform you of them, considering the singular nature of the details. You are an honest man, and you have obtained your handsome fortune in too legal a way to wish to add to it by theft. Besides, you are an almost primitive man, and you would be tortured by remorse. We have within us, be we savage or civilized, the sense of what is right, and this will not permit us to enjoy in peace ill-gotten gains acquired against the laws of the society in which we live,--for well-constituted societies are modeled on the system God has ordained for the universe. In this respect societies have a divine origin. Man does not originate ideas, he invents no form; he answers to the eternal relations that surround him

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Sarrasine by Honore de Balzac:

looking for an enemy, the /musico/ left the party. As he passed through the palace gate he was seized by men who deftly gagged him with a handkerchief and placed him in the carriage hired by Sarrasine. Frozen with terror, Zambinella lay back in a corner, not daring to move a muscle. He saw before him the terrible face of the artist, who maintained a deathlike silence. The journey was a short one. Zambinella, kidnaped by Sarrasine, soon found himself in a dark, bare studio. He sat, half dead, upon a chair, hardly daring to glance at a statue of a woman, in which he recognized his own features. He did not utter a word, but his teeth were chattering; he was paralyzed with fear. Sarrasine was striding up and down the studio. Suddenly he