Travelling to past lives is like making a hole in the floor and letting the flames of the fire in the apartment below scorch and burn the present
Paulo CoelhoAbout author
- Author's profession: Novelist, Writer, Poet
- Nationality: brazilian
- Born: August 24, 1947
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Connie went for walks in the park, and in the woods that joined the park, and enjoyed the solitude and the mystery, kicked the brown leaves of autumn, and picked the primroses of spring. But it was all a dream; or rather it was like the simulacrum of reality. The oak leaves were to her like oak-leaves seen ruffling in a mirror, she herself was a figure somebody had read about, picking primroses that were only shadows or memories, or words. No substance to her or anything...no touch, no contact!
David Herbert Lawrence