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“Well, this world is a school and we are its students. Each of us studies something as we pass through. Some people learn love, kindness. Others, I’m afraid, abuse and brutality. But the best students are those who acquire generosity and compassion from their encounters with hardship and cruelty. The ones who choose not to inflict
“Tell me.” Nen pours herself a glass of water from the tap in the kitchen, checking whether the sink is leaking. She sits back on the floor, which she finds more comfortable than the stool or the armchair. Then she says: “In those days, in those far-off days…in olden times…
How strange it is to have carried your convictions like a set of keys, only to realize they will not open any doors. Arthur no longer knows how he feels about excavating antiquities and carrying them off to England.
But Arthur is convinced that everyone has a gift. Given a chance and a modicum of support, anyone can elevate their skill. In the end, perhaps what separates one individual
from another is not talent but passion. And what is passion if not a restlessness of the heart, an intense yearning to surpass your limits, like a river overflowing its banks?
