Book: Quo Vadis

She laid her head on his chest and they had a quiet conversation about love and death. In thoughts and speeches, even in their desires and hopes, both involuntarily drifted more and more away from life and lost their sense of reality. Both were like people who, having set sail on a ship from land, lose sight of the shore and slowly sink into infinity.

Meanwhile, you can whistle as much as your heart desires, because a heap of ash - whether it was left from a shepherd's fire or from a burnt city - is just a heap of ash, which sooner or later will be blown away by the wind.

And at this moment both felt infinitely happy, realizing that in addition to love, they are united by another force, a good and irresistible force, thanks to which love itself becomes something inexhaustible, beyond the control of change, disappointment in treason and even death. In the hearts of both lived the confidence that in any vissitudes they will not cease to love and belong to each other. And this confidence filled them with unspeakable calm.

Your love changed your sense of smell, you began to prefer violets to the verbne, but in me she changed my soul, and for all my depravity I prefer that Lygia be as she is, than that she be like others.

She felt that she was infinitely loved, deified, that this powerful, dangerous man now belonged to her soul and body, like a slave, and the consciousness of his obedience and his power over him filled her with happiness.

Until the eyes of the one who is nice to you are opened to the light of truth, until then, child, you avoid him, lest he lead you into sin, but pray for him and know that there is no fault in your love.

For the first time in his life, Vinicius felt that either the world had to change, be reborn, or life would become impossible at all. He also understood what had recently been hidden from him - that in such times only Christians can be happy.

I saw your soul in a dream.

Let there be no clouds in your sky, and if they appear, let them have the color and smell of roses.

Hope beckons every morning, otherwise it would be impossible to live.

It is not enough just to love, one must be able to love and one must be able to teach love.

Tell me sincerely - not as an ardent young man who has instilled something in himself and inflames himself, but as a reasonable person who relegates to a friend's question: is Lygya always equally dear to you?

Why is procuring in our times much more profitable than virtue?

His heart melted with tenderness.