If he was not personally loud, however, he was deep, and during these closing days of the Roman May he knew a complacency that matched with slow irregular walks under the pines of the Villa Borghese, among the small sweet meadow-flowers and the mossy marbles.

The girls in the stories make such fools of themselves. They are so weak. They fall helplessly in love with the wrong men, they give in, they are jilted. Then they cry.

It was a sad place, especially after a day at the Circle, where all was made with care and love and the gift of a good eye.

Because you forgot that the path to knowledge is a path that's open to everyone, to the common people.

Written By Paulo Coelho

About us

Featured posts

Featured Topics

Quick Links