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Today's Stichomancy for Robin Williams

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Alexander's Bridge by Willa Cather:

that the stars themselves were but flaming particles in the far-away infinitudes of his love?

What had he done to lose it? How could he endure the baseness of life without it? And with every revolution of the wheels beneath him, the unquiet quicksilver in his breast told him that at midsummer he would be in London. He remembered his last night there: the red foggy darkness, the hungry crowds before the theatres, the hand-organs, the feverish rhythm of the blurred, crowded streets, and


Alexander's Bridge
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Frankenstein by Mary Shelley:

mounted considerably. The wind was high, and the waves continually threatened the safety of my little skiff. I found that the wind was northeast and must have driven me far from the coast from which I had embarked. I endeavoured to change my course but quickly found that if I again made the attempt the boat would be instantly filled with water. Thus situated, my only resource was to drive before the wind. I confess that I felt a few sensations of terror. I had no compass with me and was so slenderly acquainted with the geography of this part of the world that the sun was of little benefit to me. I might be driven into the wide Atlantic and feel all the tortures of starvation or be swallowed up in the


Frankenstein
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The House of Dust by Conrad Aiken:

Cries out his news,--of unplumbed worlds approaching, Of a cloud of darkness soon to destroy the tower. But why comes death,--he asks,--in a world so perfect? Or why the minute's grey in the golden hour?

Music, a sudden glissando, sinister, troubled, A drift of wind-torn petals, before him passes Down jangled streets, and dies. The bodies of old and young, of maimed and lovely, Are slowly borne to earth, with a dirge of cries.

Down cobbled streets they come; down huddled stairways; Through silent halls; through carven golden doorways;