"I seem to be the plaything of fate," he exclaimed, after he had tried in vain to recall Atli's directions; "let fate decide, life is but made up of the castings of a die," and with that he threw his dagger into the air, crying, "Point right, haft left!"
— from Vandrad the Viking; Or, The Feud and the Spell by J. Storer (Joseph Storer) Clouston
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