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Today's Stichomancy for Oprah Winfrey

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from My Bondage and My Freedom by Frederick Douglass:

unnatural course of life, without great wrong. The slave finds more of the milk of human kindness in the bosom of the savage Indian, than in the heart of his _Christian_ master. He leaves the man of the _bible_, and takes refuge with the man of the _tomahawk_. He rushes from the praying slaveholder into the paws of the bear. He quits the homes of men for the haunts of wolves. He prefers to encounter a life of trial, however bitter, or death, however terrible, to dragging out his existence under the dominion of these _kind_ masters.

The apologists for slavery often speak of the abuses of slavery; and they tell us that they are as much opposed to those abuses as

My Bondage and My Freedom
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Modest Proposal by Jonathan Swift:


I am assured by our merchants, that a boy or a girl before twelve years old, is no saleable commodity, and even when they come to this age, they will not yield above three pounds, or three pounds and half a crown at most, on the exchange; which cannot turn to account either to the parents or kingdom, the charge of nutriments and rags having been at least four times that value.

I shall now therefore humbly propose my own thoughts, which I hope will not be liable to the least objection.

I have been assured by a very knowing American of my acquaintance in London, that a young healthy child well nursed, is, at a year

A Modest Proposal
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Roads of Destiny by O. Henry:


Rising, Grandemont shook Mr. Jack by the shoulder. The weary guest opened his eyes. Grandemont held the watch.

"Look at this picture, Mr. Jack. Have you ever--"

"/My sister Adele/!"

The vagrant's voice rang loud and sudden through the room. He started to his feet, but Grandemont's arms were about him, and Grandemont was calling him "Victor!--Victor Fauquier! /Merci, merci, mon Dieu/!"

Too far overcome by sleep and fatigue was the lost one to talk that night. Days afterward, when the tropic /calentura/ had cooled in his veins, the disordered fragments he had spoken were completed in shape