Paulo Coelho

Stories & Reflections

Contradictions of the warrior

Author: Paulo Coelho

LEIA EM PORTUGUES AQUI>>: As contradií§íµes do guerreiro

LEA EN ESPANOL AQUI >> Contradicciones del guerrero

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Every Warrior of the Light
has felt afraid of going into battle.

Every Warrior of the Light
has, at some time in the past, lied or betrayed someone.

Every Warrior of the Light
has trodden a path that was not his.

Every Warrior of the Light
has suffered for the most trivial of reasons.

Every Warrior of the Light
has, at least once, believed he was not a Warrior of the Light.

Every Warrior of the Light
has failed in his spiritual duties.

Every Warrior of the Light
has said ‘yes’ when he wanted to say ‘no.’

Every Warrior of the Light
has hurt someone he loved.

That is why he is a Warrior of the Light, because he has been through all this and yet has never lost hope of being better than he is.


in WARRIOR OF THE LIGHT: A MANUAL

30 SEG LEITURA: Problemas

Author: Paulo Coelho


Ilustrado por Ken Crane

Era uma vez um sábio muito conhecido, que cansado de conviver com os homens, havia escolhido uma vida simples, e passava a maior parte do tempo meditando.

Sua fama, porém, era tí£o grande, que as pessoas estavam dispostas a andar por caminhos estreitos, subir colinas escarpadas, vencer rios caudalosos – apenas para conhecer aquele homem santo. O sábio, como era um homem cheio de compaixí£o, dava um conselho aqui, outro ali. Mesmo assim, eles apareciam em grupos cada vez maiores, e certo dia uma multidí£o bateu í  sua porta, dizendo que histórias a seu respeito haviam sido publicadas, e todos estavam certos que ele sabia como superar as dificuldades da vida.

O sábio pediu que sentassem e esperassem. Quando ní£o havia espaí§o para mais ninguém, ele dirigiu-se ao povo que estava diante de sua porta:

– Hoje vou dar a resposta que todos desejam. Mas vocíªs prometem que, assim que tiverem seus problemas resolvidos, dirí£o aos novos peregrinos que me mudei daqui – de modo que possa continuar a viver na solidí£o que tanto almejo. Contem-me seus problemas.

Alguém comeí§ou a falar, mas foi logo interrompido por outras pessoas. Minutos depois, a confusí£o estava criada.O sábio deixou que a situaí§í£o se prolongasse um pouco, até que gritou:
– Silíªncio! Escrevam seus problemas e coloquem o papel na minha frente.

Quando todos terminaram, o sábio misturou todos os papéis em uma cesta, pedindo em seguida:

– Passem esta cesta por todos; que cada um tire o papel que está em cima, e leia o que foi escrito. Vocíªs podem escolher entre passar a ter o problema que está escrito ou vocíªs podem pedir seu problema de volta a quem os sorteou.

Cada um dos presentes pegou uma das folhas de papel, leu, e ficou horrorizado. Concluí­ram que aquilo que tinham escrito, por pior que fosse, ní£o era tí£o sério como o que afligia o seu vizinho. Duas horas depois, trocaram os papéis, e cada um tornou a colocar no bolso o seu problema pessoal, aliviado por saber que sua aflií§í£o ní£o era tí£o dura como imaginava.

Agradeceram a lií§í£o, desceram a montanha com a certeza de que eram mais felizes que os outros, e – cumprindo o juramento feito – nunca mais deixaram que ninguém perturbasse a paz do santo homem.

Problemas

Author: Paulo Coelho


Illustration by Ken Crane

Érase una vez un sabio muy conocido que viví­a en una montaña del Himalaya. Cansado de convivir con los hombres, habí­a optado por una vida sencilla, y pasaba la mayor parte de su tiempo meditando.

Este sabio, como era un hombre muy compasivo, no dejaba de dar un consejo aquí­ y otro allá. A pesar de todo, éstos aparecí­an en grupos cada vez mayores y, en cierta ocasión, una multitud se agolpó a su puerta diciendo que en el periódico local se habí­an publicado que el sabí­a cómo superar las dificultades de la vida.

El sabio les pidió a todos que se sentasen y esperasen. Cuando ya no quedaba espacio para nadie más, él se dirigió a la muchedumbre que esperaba frente a su puerta:

-Os os voy a dar la respuesta que todos queréis. Pero debéis prometerme que, a medida que vuestros problemas se solucionen, les diréis a los nuevos peregrinos que me fui de aquí­, de manera que yo pueda continuar viviendo en la soledad que tanto anhelo.Contadme vuestros problemas.

Alguien comenzó a hablar, pero fue inmediatamente interrumpido por otras personas, ya que sabí­an que aquélla era la última audiencia pública que el hombre santo darí­a, y temí­an que no tuviera tiempo de escucharlos a todos.El sabio dejó que la escena se prolongase un poco más, y por fin gritó:
-¡Silencio! Escribid vuestros problemas y dejad los papeles aquí­, frente a mí­.

Cuando todos terminaron, el sabio mezcló todos los papeles en una cesta, pidiendo a continuación:

-Id pasando esta cesta de mano en mano, y que cada uno saque un papel y lo lea. Entonces podréis cambiar vuestro problema por el que os ha tocado, o pedir que os devuelvan el papel con el problema que escribisteis originalmente.

Todos los presentes fueron tomando una de las hojas de papel, la leyeron, y quedaron horrorizados. Sacaron como conclusión que aquello que habí­an escrito, por muy malo que fuese, no era tan serio como lo que afligí­a a sus vecinos. Dos horas después, intercambiaron los papeles, y cada uno volvió a meter en su bolsillo su problema personal, aliviado al saber que su aflicción no era tan dura como se imaginaba.

Agradecieron la lección, bajaron la montaña con la seguridad de que eran más felices que los demás, y -cumpliendo el juramento realizado- nunca más permitieron que nadie perturbase la paz de aquel hombre santo.


Illustration by Ken Crane

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ESPANOL AQUI : Problemas

PORTUGUES AQUI: Problemas

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There was once a well-known scholar, who lived in a mountain in the Himalayas. Tired of living with men, he had chosen a simple life and spent most of his time meditating.

His fame, however, was so great that people were willing to walk narrow paths, climb steep hills, swim rivers – to meet the holy man who was believed to be able to resolve any trouble of the human heart.

The wise man said nothing but asked them to sit and wait. Three days passed, and more people arrived. When there was no room for anyone else, he addressed the people who were outside his door.

“Today I will give the answer that everyone wants. But you must promise that, to have your problems solved, you will not tell the new pilgrims that I moved here – so that you can continue to live in the solitude you so much crave. Tell me your problems” .

Someone began to speak, but was soon interrupted by others, as everyone knew that this was the last public hearing that the holy man was giving. The wise man let the situation be prolonged a little, until he cried, “Silence! Write your problems down and put the papers in front of me,” he said.

When everyone finished, the wise man mixed all the papers in a basket, then said, “Keep this basket moving amongst you. Each of you will take a paper, and read it. You will then choose whether to keep your problems, or take the one given to you.”

Each person took a sheet of paper, read it, and was horrified. They concluded that what they had written, however bad it was, was not as serious as what ailed his neighbor. Two hours later, they exchanged papers amongst themselves, and each one had to put their personal problems back into his or her pocket, relieved that their distress was not as hard as they once thought.

Grateful for the lesson, they went down the mountain with the certainty that they were happier than all the others, and – fulfilling the promise made – never let anyone disturb the peace of the holy man.

Character of the week: the critic

Author: Paulo Coelho

In the past I have received emails from readers who have felt personally insulted when they have read a bad review about one of my books. Firstly, I thank you for your solidarity. Secondly: don’t take the critics too seriously! Just ask: “if you can do better, why don’t you write a book?”

After 20 years of writing, I have come to some conclusions which have helped me a lot in my books. In “The Zahir”, the main character knows already, even before his book is published, what critics are going to say.

It is not up to me to criticize the critics – I am a writer. When I meet one of them (and I meet them very often) they are normally embarrassed. They try to be nice, as if I was insulted. They are normally surprised with my reaction ( “I don’t take your comments as a personal offense”).

Why am I writing this? Because I am convinced that most of you may feel hurt when someone criticizes your work. As I said before, don’t take critics too seriously. Don’t give them the importance they don’t have. They are trying to make a living, and that’s all.

If I did not manage to convince you, please read the comments below:

Do what you feel in your heart to be right, for you’ll be criticized anyway. ~ Anna Eleanor Roosevelt

Critics should find meaningful work ~ John Grisham

To escape criticism “” do nothing, say nothing, be nothing. ~ Elbert Hubbard

It isn’t what they say about you, it’s what they whisper. ~ Errol Flynn

If criticism had any power to harm, the skunk would be extinct by now. ~ Fred Allen

Don’t be afraid of opposition. Remember, a kite rises against, not with, the wind. ~ Hamilton Mabie

There is no defense against criticism except obscurity. ~ Joseph Addison

I have always been very fond of them (drama critics) . . . I think it is so frightfully clever of them to go night after night to the theatre and know so little about it. ~ Noel Coward

All the world’s a stage, and all the clergymen critics. ~ Gregory Nunn

A fly, Sir, may sting a stately horse and make him wince; but one is but an insect, and the other is a horse still. ~ Samuel Johnson

Critics don’t buy records. They get ’em free. ~ Nat King Cole

Critics search for ages for the wrong word, which, to give them credit, they eventually find. ~ Peter Ustinov

I don’t like to write like God. It is only because you never do it, though, that the critics think you can’t do it ~ Ernest Hemingway (Nobel Prize of Literature)

Critics are like eunuchs in a harem; they know how it’s done, they’ve seen it done every day, but they’re unable to do it themselves.


En 1998 yo y mi mujer, Chris, estubimos 40 dias en el deserto de Mojave. El resultado de la experiencia está en “Las Valkí­rias”, ahora publicado em toda America Latina, México y España. En el momento en que hago este post, el libro está en todas las listas de mas vendidos.

“”Hablo del contrato de derrota.
Paulo recordó lo que J. habí­a dicho: el hombre siempre destruye aquello que más ama.
El silencio dentro de la mina era peor que el del desierto. No se oí­a absolutamente nada, excepto la voz de Vahalla, que parecí­a diferente.
“”Tenemos un contrato entre nosotros: no vencer, cuando es posible la victoria “”insistió ella.
“”Jamás hice un acuerdo así­ “”dijo Paulo por tercera vez.

“”Todos lo hacen. En algún momento de la vida, todos nosotros hacemos ese acuerdo. Por eso hay un ángel con una espada de fuego en la puerta del Paraí­so. Para dejar entrar sólo a los que rompen ese acuerdo.
Sí­, ella tiene razón, pensaba Chris. Todos lo hacen.

“”¿Crees que soy bonita? “”preguntó Vahalla, cambiando de nuevo el tono de su voz.
“”Eres una mujer hermosa “”respondió Paulo.

“”Un dí­a, cuando era adolescente, vi llorar a mi mejor amiga. Salí­amos juntas siempre, sentí­amos un inmenso amor una por la otra, y le pregunté qué pasaba. Después de mucho insistir, ella acabó contándome que su novio estaba enamorado de mí­. Yo no lo sabí­a, pero ese dí­a hice el acuerdo.
“Sin comprender bien por qué, comencé a engordar, a cuidar mal de mi cuerpo, a ponerme fea. Porque, inconscientemente, creí­a que mi belleza era una maldición, hací­a sufrir a mi mejor amiga.
“En poco tiempo, comencé a destruir también el sentido de mi vida, porque ya no estaba unida a mí­ misma. Hasta que llegó el momento en que todo a mi alrededor se volvió insoportable; pensé en morir.”

Vahalla rió.
“”Como ves, rompí­ el acuerdo.
“”Es verdad “”dijo Paulo.
“”Sí­, es verdad “”dijo Chris””. Eres hermosa.
“”Estamos en el vientre de la montaña “”continuó la Valkiria”” Allá afuera brilla el sol, y aquí­ todo es oscuro. Pero la temperatura es agradable; podemos dormir, no tenemos que preocuparnos por nada. Aquí­ está la oscuridad del Acuerdo.
Se llevó la mano al cierre de su chaqueta de cuero.
“”Rompe el acuerdo “”dijo””. Por la gloria de Dios. Por el amor. Y por la victoria.
Comenzó a bajar el cierre lentamente. No usaba nada debajo.
Aparecieron los senos.

 

AQUI: COMUNIDAD LAS VALKYRIAS

Breaking the pact with defeat

Author: Paulo Coelho

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VERSION EN ESPANOL: CLICAR AQUI >>>EL PACTO CON LA DERROTA
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In 1988, my wife and I spent 40 days in the Mojave desert. The result of this experience is in the book “The Valkiries”. (the book, already published in several languages, is now released in German under the title of SCHUTZENGEL
 
 

‘I’m talking about your pact with defeat.’
Paulo thought of what J. had said – about destroying what we love most.

The silence within the mine was worse than in the desert. Not a sound was heard, except Valhalla’s voice – which sounded different.

‘We have a contract, you and I: not to win when victory is possible,’ she insisted.
‘I have never made any such pact,’ Paulo said for the third time.

‘Everyone has. At some point in our lives, we all enter into such an agreement. That’s why there is an angel with a burning sword at the gates to paradise. To allow entry only to those who have broken that pact.’

Yes, she’s right, thought Chris. Everyone has made this pact.
‘Do you find me attractive?’ Valhalla asked, once again changing the tone of her voice.
‘You are a beautiful woman,’ Paulo answered.

‘One day, when I was still an adolescent, I saw my best friend crying. We were inseparable, and we loved each other completely, and I asked what had happened. When I insisted on knowing, she told me that her boyfriend was in love with me.
“I didn’t know that, and that day I made the pact. Without really knowing why, I began to gain weight, to take poor care of myself, to become unattractive. Because – unconsciously – I felt that my beauty was a curse, and had caused suffering for my best friend.
‘Before long, I had destroyed all meaning in my life because I just didn’t care about myself anymore. I reached the point that everything about my life became unbearable: I thought about dying.’

Valhalla laughed.
‘As you can see, I broke the pact.’
‘True,’ Paulo said.
‘Yes, it is true,’ Chris said. ‘You are lovely.’

‘We are in the heart of the mountain,’ the Valkyrie continued. ‘Outside, the sun is shining, and here there is only darkness. But the temperature is pleasant, we can sleep, we have nothing to worry about. This is the darkness of the pact.’
She raised her hand to the zipper of her leather jacket.
‘Break the pact,’ she said. ‘For the glory of God. For love. And for victory.’

She began to lower the zipper slowly. She wore nothing beneath the jacket.

 

taken from THE VALKYRIES

Ní£o devo. Ní£o posso. E tenho que dizer para mim mesmo mil vezes: ní£o quero.

Yao tira a roupa e fica apenas de cuecas. Apesar de ter mais de 70 anos, seu corpo é pele e músculos. Eu também tiro a roupa.

Eu preciso disso. Nem tanto pelos dias que passo confinado dentro do trem, mas porque meu desejo agora comeí§ou a crescer de maneira incontrolável. Mesmo que só ganhe dimensíµes gigantescas quando estamos distantes – ela foi para seu quarto, ou eu tenho um compromisso profissional a cumprir -, sei que ní£o falta muito para que eu sucumba a ele. Assim foi no passado, quando nos encontramos pelo que imagino ser a primeira vez; quando se afastava de mim, ní£o conseguia pensar em outra coisa. Quando tornava a estar próxima, visí­vel, palpável, os demí´nios desapareciam sem que eu precisasse me controlar muito.

Por isso ela precisa ficar aqui. Agora. Antes que seja tarde demais.

Yao veste o quimono, eu faí§o a mesma coisa. Caminhamos em silíªncio para o dojo, o lugar da luta, que ele conseguiu encontrar depois de tríªs ou quatro telefonemas. Há várias pessoas praticando; encontramos um canto livre.

“O Caminho da Paz é vasto e imenso, refletindo o grande desenho que foi feito no mundo visí­vel e invisí­vel. O guerreiro é o trono do Divino e serve sempre a um propósito maior.” Morihei Ueshiba disse isso há quase um século, enquanto desenvolvia as técnicas do Aikido.

O caminho do seu corpo é a porta ao lado. Eu irei bater, ela abrirá e ní£o me perguntará exatamente o que desejo; pode ler em meus olhos. Talvez tenha medo. Ou talvez diga: “Pode entrar, eu estava esperando por esse momento. Meu corpo é o trono do Divino, serve para manifestar aqui tudo aquilo que já estamos vivendo em outra dimensí£o.”

Yao e eu fazemos a reveríªncia tradicional, e nossos olhos mudam. Agora estamos prontos para o combate.

E na minha imaginaí§í£o, ela também abaixa a cabeí§a como se estivesse dizendo “Sim, estou pronta, segure-me, agarre meus cabelos.Abra minhas pernas.”

Yao e eu nos aproximamos, seguramos as golas dos quimonos, mantemos a postura, e o combate comeí§a. Um segundo depois estou no chí£o.
Ní£o posso pensar nela – invoco o espí­rito de Ueshiba ele vem ao meu socorro por meio dos seus ensinamentos e consigo voltar ao dojo, ao meu oponente, ao combate, ao Aikido, ao Caminho da Paz.

“Sua mente precisa estar em harmonia com o Universo. Seu corpo precisa acompanhar o Universo. Vocíª e o Universo sí£o apenas um.”

Levanto. Faz anos que ní£o luto, minha imaginaí§í£o está longe daqui, esqueci como me equilibrar direito.
Yao espera que me recomponha; vejo sua postura e me lembro da posií§í£o em que preciso manter os pés. Coloco-me diante dele de maneira correta, de novo agarramos as golas de nossos quimonos.

No meu imaginário, ní£o é Yao, mas Hilal que está diante de mim.
Mantenho seus braí§os imóveis, primeiro com as mí£os, depois colocando meus joelhos sobre eles. Comeí§o a desabotoar sua blusa.

Para ler os comentários de leitores sobre o livro, CLIQUE AQUI

Tony Blair x Rio 2016 (final)

Author: Paulo Coelho

The tweets above were posted in Feb 02, 2010, the beginning of a long battle to avoid the presence of this person in my country. I am using an RT (Retweet) instead of my original post, to demonstrate that people started to participate in the campaign. I was sure I was going to win because I was fighting the Good Fight

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FINAL UPDATE, OCTOBER 05, 2010
(Folha de Sí£o Paulo newspaper )
The hiring of former British Prime Minister Tony Blair as a consultant to the 2016 Olympic Games, to be played in Rio, was held in January by Brazilian politicians and leaders. Eight months later, the Govt of Rio gave up the idea of hiring the former British prime minister.

The hiring of Blair was questioned by writer Paulo Coelho, who joined the Brazilian delegation in Denmark, where Rior was chosen to host of the Games in October last year.

The writer made the criticism in his personal Twitter page. Coelho called Blair called “irresponsible” and “murderer” and that he felt ashamed at seeing former Prime Minister receiving the shirt of the Brazilian team.
“We are paying for Tony Blair to be a consultant in Rio-2016? An irresponsible who declared an illegal war? What is this, governor?” asked Coelho.

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UPDATE FEBRUARY 21
We still have 9 days to go. I asked my office to call the office of the Governor of Rio de Janeiro, and their answer was: “we still don’t have anything concrete, as soon as we have Paulo Coelho will be informed”. I hoped this was just a nightmare that now is already forgotten by everybody – except myself. If we arrive to the end of May without this dark cloud visiting my country, the nightmare is over, and the world will see that Brazilians are capable to organize the Olympic Games 2016 without the help of a person who has his hands tainted with innocent blood, who left by the back door after his deposition for the Commission which is investigating the participation of UK in the invasion of Iraq (to understand the post below, you need to use Google Translator, but there is a short explanation at the end)

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FEBRUARY 2, 2010

This Sunday, returning from Davos, I was appalled to see that Tony Blair was invited to be consultant of Rio 2016 Olympic Games. I immediately posted in Twitter that I don’t want a person who has lied to his country and to the world, who has blood in this hand, to participate in an event where peace and healthy competition is to be celebrated.
My tweets reached the mainstream media in Brasil and UK. An online survey by the major portal O Globo shows right now that 83.86% support my position. At this stage I hope this was a bad nightmare, and the Brazilian private sector will not sponsor his participation. Let’s wait until May and see.

To see the original post and updates, click here

sent by Priya Sher

A young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley. A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it.

But an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said,
“Your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine.”

The crowd and the young man looked at the old man’s heart. It was beating strongly but full of scars. It had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in … but they didn’t fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. The young man looked at the old man’s heart and laughed.
“You must be joking,” he said. “Compare your heart with mine … mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears.”

“ “Yes,” said the old man, “Yours is perfect looking … but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love….. I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them … and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart but because the pieces aren’t exact, I have some rough edges.
” Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away … and the other person hasn’t returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges … giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too … and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?”

The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man.
The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man’s heart.
It fit …. but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges.
The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since lovefrom the old man’s heart flowed into his.


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Illustration by Ken Crane

Deciding on the Destinies of Others
Malba Tahan tells the story of a man who met an angel in the desert and gave him water.
“I am the angel of death and I came to get you,” said the angel. “But as you were kind, I will lend you the Book of Destiny for five minutes; you may change what you want.”

The angel gave the man the book. As he was leafing through its pages, the man began reading about the lives of his neighbors. And he got discontented,
“These people don’t deserve such nice things,” he said. With the pen in hand, he began worsening the lives of each one.

Finally, he reached the page of his destiny. He saw his tragic end, but as he prepared to change it, the book disappeared. Five minutes had already passed.
And right there, the angel took the man’s soul.

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Decidindo o destino alheio

Malba Tahan conta a história de um homem que encontrou um anjo no deserto, e lhe deu água.
“Sou o anjo da morte e vim buscá-lo”, disse o anjo. “Mas como vocíª foi bom, vou lhe emprestar o Livro do Destino por cinco minutos; vocíª pode alterar o que quiser”.

O anjo entregou o livro. Ao folhear suas páginas, o homem foi lendo a vida dos seus vizinhos. Ficou descontente: “estas pessoas ní£o merecem coisas tí£o boas”, pensou. De caneta em punho, comeí§ou piorar a vida de cada um.

Finalmente, chegou na página de seu destino. Viu seu final trágico, mas quando preparava-se para mudá-lo, o livro sumiu. Já se tinham passado cinco minutos.
E o anjo, ali mesmo, levou a alma do homem.

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Decidiendo el destino ajeno

Malba Tahan cuenta la historia de un hombre que encontró un ángel en el desierto, y le dio agua.
-Soy el ángel de la muerte y he venido a buscarte- dijo el ángel -. Pero como has sido bondadoso, voy a dejarte prestado el Libro del Destino durante cinco minutos. Puedes alterar lo que quieras en él.

El ángel le entregó el libro. Al hojear sus páginas, el hombre fue leyendo la vida de sus vecinos. No le gustó lo que vio: “Estas personas no se merecen cosas tan buenas”, pensó. Pluma en mano, se dedicó a empeorar la vida de cada uno de ellos.

Por último, llegó a la página de su destino. Leyó su trágico final y, cuando se disponí­a a cambiarlo, el libro desapareció. Los cinco minutos ya habí­an concluido.
En ese mismo instante, el ángel se llevó el alma de aquel hombre.
 
 
 

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Character of the week: Gandhi

Author: Paulo Coelho

A vow is a purely religious act which cannot be taken in a fit of passion. It can be taken only with a mind purified and composed and with God as witness. God sometimes does try to the uttermost those whom he wishes to bless. I do not want to foresee the future. I am concerned with taking care of the present. God has given me no control over the moment following.

Are creeds such simple things like the clothes which a man can change at will and put on at will? Creeds are such for which people live for ages and ages. All the religions of the world, while they may differ in other respects, unitedly proclaim that nothing lives in this world but Truth..

In prayer it is better to have a heart without words than words without a heart.

An error does not become truth by reason of multiplied propagation, nor does truth become error because nobody sees it.

A small body of determined spirits fired by an unquenchable faith in their mission can alter the course of history. Action expresses priorities. An ounce of practice is worth more than tons of preaching.

All compromise is based on give and take, but there can be no give and take on fundamentals. Any compromise on mere fundamentals is a surrender. For it is all give and no take.

Faith is not something to grasp, it is a state to grow into. Faith… must be enforced by reason… when faith becomes blind it dies.

First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win.

Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi ( 2 October 1869 – 30 January 1948) was the pre-eminent political and spiritual leader of India during the Indian independence movement.

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