it was her company he desired. He wanted to put his arms around her andto sit in silence, staring into the fire, drinking wine, smoking the occasional cigarette; thatwould be enough. Life was made up of simple things; he was weary of all the yearshe had spent searching for something, though quite what he didn't know.
Paulo CoelhoAbout author
- Author's profession: Novelist, Writer, Poet
- Nationality: brazilian
- Born: August 24, 1947
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Style is a very simple matter; it is all rhythm. Once you get that, you can't use the wrong words. But on the other hand here am I sitting after half the morning, crammed with ideas, and visions, and so on, and can't dislodge them, for lack of the right rhythm. Now this is very profound, what rhythm is, and goes far deeper than any words. A sight, an emotion, creates this wave in the mind, long before it makes words to fit it.
Virginia Woolf