She was wearing the same clothes, but now she looked haggard and dirty. The delicate illusions that get us through life can only stand so much strain.

The truth you are told of is just an information. Knowing it experientially is Life.

For man, unlike any other thing organic or inorganic in the universe, grows beyond his work, walks up the stairs of his concepts, emerges ahead of his accomplishments.

After all, each human being—or so she believed then—had been born to love and to live with their beloved.

Written By Paulo Coelho

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