I was a kid and a little pedantic but I still maintain I had a point.

So my life is a point-counterpoint, a kind of fugue, and a falling away–and everything winds up being lost to me, and everything falls into oblivion, or into the hands of the other man.

I love this man sitting before me now, because I do not possess him and he does not possess me. We are free in our mutual surrender; I need to repeat this dozens, hundreds, millions of times, until I finally believe my own words.

And to those who believe that adventures are i say try routine: it kills you far more quickly.

Written By Paulo Coelho

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