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Today's Stichomancy for Pol Pot

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Prince Otto by Robert Louis Stevenson:

confident to-day, that no hereditary trifler has the power to shatter that alliance.'

'I, born to command!' she said. 'Do you forget my tears?'

'Madam, they were the tears of Alexander,' cried the Baron. 'They touched, they thrilled me; I, forgot myself a moment - even I! But do you suppose that I had not remarked, that I had not admired, your previous bearing? your great self-command? Ay, that was princely!' He paused. 'It was a thing to see. I drank confidence! I tried to imitate your calm. And I was well inspired; in my heart, I think that I was well inspired; that any man, within the reach of argument, had been convinced! But it was not to be; nor, madam, do

The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Agesilaus by Xenophon:

and his whole power, into the hands of Agesilaus. Cotys[2] also, the ruler of Paphlagonia, had refused to obey a summons from the king, although he sent him the warrant of his right hand;[3] then fear came upon him lest he should be seized, and either be heavily fined or die the death; yet he too, simply trusting to an armistice, came to the camp of Agesilaus and made alliance, and of his own accord chose to take the field with Agesilaus, bringing a thousand horsemen and two thousand targeteers. Lastly, Pharnabazus[4] himself came and held colloquy with Agesilaus, and openly agreed that if he were not himself appointed general-in-chief of the royal forces he would revolt from the king. "Whereas, if I do become general," he added, "I mean to make

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

out of the rental, and I shall take good care to look out for something cheap, so that you may lose nothing by this mortgage, which is indispensable.

"Oh! my dear Leopold, no gambler with the last remains of his fortune in his pocket, bent on staking it at the Cercle des Etrangers for the last time one night, when he must come away rich or ruined, ever felt such a perpetual ringing in his ears, such a nervous moisture on his palms, such a fevered tumult in his brain, such inward qualms in his body as I go through every day now that I am playing my last card in the game of ambition. Alas! my dear and only friend, for nearly ten years now I have been struggling.


Albert Savarus