strolled down the hill without meeting a creature, though I could see through the palings of the Common that that recreative expanse was peopled with dim forms.  I remembered Mrs. Nettlepoint’s house—she lived in those days (they

The wicked always finds ways to poison thoughts as they can never win a fair play.

Думите са самота. Снощи оставих за теб две думи на масата – ти ги покри с лактите си.

I don’t want to see her. I’ve cut all my links with the outside world.

Written By Paulo Coelho

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