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Quote by Paulo Coelho

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The Alchemist

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Author

Paulo Coelho
Paulo Coelho

Paulo Coelho, born on August 24, 1947, is a renowned Brazilian author and lyricist. His works are characterized by profound philosophical thoughts and rich imagination, with his most famous novel being 'The Alchemist'. more

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“That’s just it. She’s in the state of mind that will think the worst of everybody,” Emma said. “And basically, that’s exactly what we’re trying to reverse. It’s a vicious cycle.” “God does the reversing.” It was sudden, I hadn’t thought of it that way before, but after it left my lips it brought me a load of comfort. Emma paused what she was doing and looked at me. “You know, that’s exactly right. Only God can change a heart. I suppose we can help, but it has to be all up to Him.”

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“A roar of relief and belts of glee united the siblings. They rushed past the other Trầns, gloating. Like a clown car, they excitedly filed into a single line and followed the server straight into the bustling lunch crowd at Crawfish & Beignets. It was the siblings' neutral zone, a place where no fighting was allowed. Except this time felt more like the Last Supper. Seafood boils were a staple of their childhood, reminding them of all the best parts of being Vietnamese American in the South, and none of the bad. Though unspoken, the migration of the Viet-Cajun boil always lingered over them, reminding them of its roots in Louisiana, from other Vietnamese folks who resettled in Houston after Hurricane Katrina, and the resiliency that came with it.”

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“The sun, still shy and submissive to winter, peeped in now and then between days of mean wind and bitter rain. Then one afternoon, just like that, spring elbowed her way in for good. The day warmed, and the sky shone as if polished. Kya spoke quietly, as she and Tate walked along the grassy bank of a deep creek, overhung with tall sweetgum trees. Suddenly he grabbed her hand, shushing her. Her eyes followed his to the water's edge, where a bullfrog, six inches wide, hunkered under foliage. A common enough sight, except this frog was completely and brilliantly white.”

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“There are times when a feeling of expectancy comes to me, as if something is there, beneath the surface of my understanding, waiting for me to grasp it. It is the same tantalizing sensation when you almost remember a name, but don't quite reach it. I can feel it when I think of human beings, of the hints of evolution suggested by the removal of wisdom teeth, the narrowing of the jaw no longer needed to chew such roughage as it was accustomed to; the gradual disappearance of hair from the human body; the adjustment of the human eye to the fine print, the swift, colored motion of the twentieth century. The feeling comes, vague and nebulous, when I consider the prolonged adolesence of our species; the rites of birth, marriage and death; all the primitive, barbaric ceremonies streamlined to modern times. Almost, I think, the unreasoning, bestial purity was best. Oh, something is there, waiting for me. Perhaps someday the revelation will burst in upon me and I will see the other side of this monumental grotesque joke. And then I'll laugh. And then I'll know what life is.”

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