So I learned two things that night, and the next day, from him: the perfection of a moment, and the fleeting nature of it.
Hope is a straw hat hanging beside a window covered with frost.
The most wicked criminals have God on their lips at all times, for God is the only one who can stomach them.
Perhaps life is like an hour glass, with dear ones the sand that slips from the upper glass–the earth–into the second–eternity.
But marrying within one’s own family can get monotonous. One has heard all the same family stories, knows all the jokes and all the same recipes. No novelty.
The soft strings of the lute rippled with memories, and the maid’s lilting voice made Mary sigh as she closed her eyes. She fell asleep filled with sadness, but without regret.
…Jesus saw the eternal in the everyday. Your last day on earth should be spent as you spent all your others– doing your daily tasks with love and honesty… An ordinary day is, perhaps, the most holy of all.
I had a desire to see something besides my own shores, if only to be content to return to them someday. If I wish to live in my native land and love her, it should not be out of ignorance.
Defeat I can endure with cheerfulness, my lady. But betrayal is like taking the wind from my sails, or the earth from beneath my feet. It chills my spirits like a rainy day, and all I can do is draw the curtains and cry into my pillow.
Some things can be recovered. Some things can be restored. But some lost things, we seek forever.
The moment was all we truly had: a succession of moments, a triumphal march of them, to create a life beyond compare.
The cure for a broken heart is simple, my lady. A hot bath and a good night’s sleep.