The second symptom of the death of our dreams lies in our certainties. Because we don’t want to see life as a grand adventure, we begin to think of ourselves as wise and fair and correct in asking so little of life.
Even if that person only existed in her delirium, she had the right to live and die as she wanted, don’t you think?
For when those walls come down, then love takes over, and it no longer matters what is possible or impossible; it doesn’t even matter whether we can keep the loved one at our side. To love is to lose control.
Life is about making mistakes…Cells went on reproducing themselves in exactly the same way for millions of years, until one of them made a mistake, and introduced change into that endless cycle of repetition…It was a mistake that set the world in motion…Never be afraid of making a mistake.
Je n’avais jamais fait cela avant. J’avais toujours pensé que si je parlais de mes blessures je finirais par les rendre encore plus réelles et, pourtant, il arrivait exactement le contraire: elles étaient cicatrisées par mes larmes.
Everyone, when they are young, know what their Personal Legend is.
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.
I must stop thinking. I’ll pretend that everything’s all right and then everything will be.
The story of one person is the story of all of humanity.
Be ye therefore as wise as the serpents and as harmless as the doves.