A couple of lines from a favorite book, which I am reading again.  The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho.  Which I think are wonderful thoughts and ideas.

pg 83

“But above all, I learned that these things are all so simple that they could be written on the surface of an emerald.”

pg 30-32

“A certain shopkeeper sent his son to learn about the secret of happiness from the wisest man in the world.  The lad wandered through the desert for forty days, and finally came upon a beautiful castle, high atop a mountain.  It was  there that the wise man lived.

“Rather than finding a saintly man, though, our hero, on entering the main room o the castle, saw a hive of activity:  tradesmen came and went, people were conversing in the corners, a small orchestra was playing soft music, and there was a table covered with platters of the most delicious food in that part of the world.  The wise man conversed  with everyone, and the boy had to wait for two hours before it was his turn to be given the man’s attention.

“The wise man listened attentively to the boy’s explanation of why he had come, but told him that he didn’t have time  just then to explain the secret of happiness.  He suggested that the boy look around the palace and return in two  hours.

“Meanwhile, I want to ask you to do something, said the wise man, handing the boy a teaspoon that held two drops of oil.  As you wander around, carry this spoon with you without allowing the oil to spill.

“The boy began climbing and descending the many stairways of the palace, keeping his eyes fixed on the spoon.  After two hours, he returned to the room where the wise man was.

“Well, asked the wise man, did you see the Persian tapestries that are hanging in my dining hall?  Did you see the garden that it took the master gardener ten years to create?  Did you notice the beautiful parchments in my library?

“The boy was embarrassed, and confessed that he had observed nothing.  His only concern had been not to spill the oil that the wise man had entrusted to him.

“Then go back and observe the marvels of my world said the wise man.  You cannot trust a man if you don’t know his
house.

“Relieved, the boy picked up the spoon and returned to his exploration of the palace, this time observing all of the works of art on the ceilings and the walls.  He saw the gardens, the mountains all around him, the beauty of the flowers, and the taste with which everything had been selected.  Upon returning to the wise man, he related in detail  everything he had seen.

“But where are the drops of oil I entrusted to you? asked the wise man.

“Looking down at the spoon he held, the boy saw that the oil was gone.

“Well, there is the only one piece of advice I can give to you.  The secret of happiness is to see all the marvels of the  world, and never to forget the drops of oil on the spoon.  The shepherd said nothing.  He had understood the story the old king had told him.  A shepherd may like to travel, but he should never forget about his sheep.

Prologue pg xiii

“The Alchemist picked up a book that someone in the caravan had brought.  Leafing through the pages, he found a story about Narcissus.  The alchemist knew the legend of Narcissus, a youth who knelt daily beside a lake to  contemplate his own beauty.  He was so fascinated by himself that, one morning, he fell into the lake and drowned.   At the spot where he fell, a flower was born, which was called the narcissus.  But this was not how the author of the book ended the story.

“He said that when Narcissus died, the goddesses of the forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears.

“Why do you weep?” the goddesses asked.

“I weep for Narcissus,” the lake replied.

“Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus,” they said, “for though we always pursued him in the forest, you  alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand.”

“But…was Narcissus beautiful?” the lake asked.

“Who better than you to know that?” the goddesses said in wonder.
“After all, it was by your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate himself.”

“The lake was silent for some time.  Finally it said: “I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful.  I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own  beauty reflected.”

“What a lovely story,” thought the alchemist.

I love these stories.  Especially the one on Narcissus.  Did they weep because they saw the beauty that they could not otherwise see?  Which was brought about because of Narcissus’ own staring and pride, or simply in the beauty of his person?  Was the lake weeping because of the loss, or the astonishing beauty it saw of itself.  The loss of seeing itself, or of finally seeing itself for what it really was?  Which am I?

Lastly, what one of the explanations I can provide about Amanda.

pg 92-93

“At that moment, it seemed to him that time stood still, and the Soul of the World surged within him.  When he  looked into her dark eyes, and saw that her lips were poised between a laugh and silence, he learned the most  important part of the language that all the world spoke–the language that everyone on earth was capable of  understanding in their heart.  It was love. Something older than humanity, more ancient than the desert.  Something that exerted the same force whenever two pairs of eyes met.  As had theirs here at the well.  She smiled, and that  was certainly an omen–the omen he had been awaiting, without even knowing he was, for all his life.  The omen he  had sought to find with his sheep and in his books, in the crystals and in the silence of the desert.

“It was the pure Language of the World.  It required no explanation, just as the universe needs none as it travels  through endless time.  What the boy felt at that moment was that he was in the presence of the only woman in his  life, and that, with no need for words, she recognized the same thing. He was more certain of it than of anything in the world.  He had been told by his parents and grandparents that he must fall in love and really know a person before  becoming committed.  But maybe people who felt that way had never learned the universal language.  Because, when you know that language, it’s easy to understand that someone in the world awaits you, whether it’s in the middle of  the desert or in some great city.  And when two such people encounter each other, and their eyes meet, the past and  the future become unimportant.  There is only that moment, and the incredible certainty that everything under the sun  has been written by one hand only.  It is the hand that evokes love, and creates a twin soul for every person in the  world..  Without such love, one’s dreams would have no meaning.  “Maktub, thought the boy.  (Maktub means, “It is
written.”)

What a powerful
explanation of the spirit of the world and of all things.
Powerful.