“There, he could exchange his book for a thicker one, fill his wine bottle, shave, and have a haircut; he had to prepare himself for his meeting with the girl, and he didn’t want to think about the possibility that some other shepherd, with a larger flock of sheep, had arrived there before him and asked for her hand. It’s the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting, he thought, as he looked again at the position of the sun, and hurried his pace. He had suddenly remembered that, in Tarifa, there was an old woman who interpreted dreams.”
Pg. 11
It was the pure language of the World. It required no explanation, just as the universe need none as it travels through endless time. What the boy felt at that moment was that he was in the presence of the only women in his life, and that, with no need for words, she recognized the same thing. He was more certain of it than anything in the world… …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 on meaning. Maktub, thought the boy.”
Pg. 97
No comments:
Post a Comment