posted March 19, 2012 08:59 AM            

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Remember, love can conquer the influences of the planets....It can even eliminate karma.

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posted March 21, 2013 05:18 AM            

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quote:

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Remember, love can conquer the influences of the planets....It can even eliminate karma.

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posted April 02, 2013 11:52 AM            

Recently i got a copy of The Pilgrimage by Paolo Coelho and luckily i have it with me right now. I will type a passage.

The book is about Paolo's pilgrimage to Santiago and the dialogue is between him and his guide Petrus.

I (Paolo) said that he (Petrus) had been nasty the night before in his judgements of the people at the party, and he was surprised at me. He said that what we had talked about was no more or less than we had ourselves experienced in our personal lives. All of us seek eros, and then when eros wants to turn itself into philos, we think that love is worhtless. We don't see that it is philos that leads us to the highest form of love, agape.
"Tell me more about agape," i said.
Petrus answered that agape cannot really be discussed; it has to be lived. That afternoon, if possible, he wanted to show me one of the faces of agape. But in order for this to happen, the universe, as in the business of fishing, would have to collaborate so that every thing went well.

"The messenger helps you, but there is one thing that is beyond the messenger's control, beyond his desires, and beyond you, as well."
"What is that?"
"The divine spark. What we call luck."
When the sun had begun to set, we resumed our walking. The Jacobean route passed through some vineyards and fields that were completely deserted at that time of day. We crossed the main road - also deserted - and started again through the woods. In the distance, I could see the Saint Lorenzo peak, the highest point in the kingdom of Castile. I had changed a great deal since I had met Petrus for the first time near Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port. Brazil and the business deals that i had been worried about had practically vanished from my mind. The only important thing for me now was my objective. I discussed it every night with Astrian (Paolo's guide who he could invoke with the help of a ritual taught to him by Petrus)who was becoming clearer, and clearer for me. I was able to see him, seated at my side, any time I tried. I learned that he had a nervour tic in right eye and that he had the habit of smiling disdainfully every time I repeated something as evidence that I had understood what he was saying. A few weeks earlier - during the first days of the pilgrimage - I had been afraid that I would never complete it. When we had passed through Roncesvalles, I had been very disillusioned about everything to do with the journey. I had wanted to get to Santiago immediately, recover my sword, and get back to fighting what Petrus called the good fight. But right now, with my connection to civilization severed, what was most important was the sun on my head and the possibility that I might experience agape.

posted April 02, 2013 11:54 AM            

"Petrus, have you ever been in love?"
The question was a spointaneous one, and I was surprised at my courage. Up until then, I had known only the bare outline of my guide's private life.'

I have known a lot of women, if that is what you mean. And I have really loved each one of them. But I experienced agape only with two.'

I told him that I had been in love many times but had been worried about whether I could ever become serious with anyone. If I had continued that way, it would have led to a solitary old age, and I had been very fearful of this.

"I don't think you look to love as a means to a comfortable retirement."

It was almost nine o'clock before it began to get dark. The vineyards were behind us, and we were walking through an arid landscape. I looked around and could see in the distance a small hermitage in th rocks, similar to many others we had passed on our pilgrimage. We walked on for a while, and then, detouring from the yellow markers, we approached the small building.

When we were close enough, Petrus called out a name that I didn't understand, and he stopped to listen for an answer. We heard nothing. Petrus called again, but no one answered.

"Let's go, anyway," he said. And we moved forward.

The hermitage consisted of just 4 whitewashed walls. The door was open-or rather, there really was no door, just a small entry panel, half a meter high, which hung precariously by one hinge. Within, there was a stone fireplace and some basins stacked on the floor. Two of them were filled with wheat and potatoes.
We sat down in the silence. Petrus lit a cigarette and said we should wait. My legs were hurting, but something in that hermitage, rather than calming me, made me feel excited. It would also have frightened me a little if Petrus had not been there.
"Where does whatever lives here sleep?" I asked, just to break the uneasy silence.
"There, where you are sitting," Petrus said, pointing to the bare earth. I said something about moving to another spot, but he told me to stay exactly where I was. The temperature must have been dropping, because I began to feel cold.
We waited for almost an hour. Petrus called out the strange name several more times and then gave up. Just when I expected us to get up and leave, he began to speak.

posted September 21, 2013 07:37 AM            

I have not read only a few books of his.
Aleph,
Zahir
Mountain
Portobello

the rest except foreign scripts I have read, and if I read another I'd puke.

there's something called too much of a good thing.