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<!DOCTYPE html> | ||
<html lang="en"> | ||
<head> | ||
<meta charset="UTF-8"> | ||
<meta http-equiv="X-UA-Compatible" content="IE=edge"> | ||
<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0"> | ||
<title>the alchemist</title> | ||
<link rel="stylesheet" href="style.css"> | ||
</head> | ||
<body> | ||
<div class="container" > | ||
<div id="myHeader" class="header"> | ||
<a href="index.html"><button class="home-button">Home</button></a> | ||
<button class="bookmark-button">Bookmark</button> | ||
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<input type="text" id="text-to-search" placeholder="Enter text to search..."> | ||
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<h6>Author</h6> | ||
<h1>Paulo Coelho</h1> | ||
<h6>Brazilian lyricist</h6> | ||
<p id="paragraph"> | ||
I can always go back to being a shepherd, the boy thought. I | ||
learned how to care for sheep, and I haven’t forgotten how that’s | ||
done. But maybe I’ll never have another chance to get to the | ||
Pyramids in Egypt. The old man wore a breastplate of gold, and he | ||
knew about my past. He really was a king, a wise king. | ||
The hills of Andalusia were only two hours away, but there was | ||
an entire desert between him and the Pyramids. Yet the boy felt that | ||
there was another way to regard his situation: he was actually two | ||
hours closer to his treasure…the fact that the two hours had | ||
stretched into an entire year didn’t matter. | ||
I know why I want to get back to my flock, he thought. I | ||
understand sheep; they’re no longer a problem, and they can be | ||
good friends. On the other hand, I don’t know if the desert can be a | ||
friend, and it’s in the desert that I have to search for my treasure. If I | ||
don’t find it, I can always go home. I finally have enough money, and | ||
all the time I need. Why not? | ||
He suddenly felt tremendously happy. He could always go back | ||
to being a shepherd. He could always become a crystal salesman | ||
again. Maybe the world had other hidden treasures, but he had a | ||
dream, and he had met with a king. That doesn’t happen to just | ||
anyone! | ||
He was planning as he left the bar. He had remembered that one | ||
of the crystal merchant’s suppliers transported his crystal by means | ||
of caravans that crossed the desert. He held Urim and Thummim in | ||
his hand; because of those two stones, he was once again on the way | ||
to his treasure. | ||
“I am always nearby, when someone wants to realize their | ||
Personal Legend,” the old king had told him. | ||
What could it cost to go over to the supplier’s warehouse and | ||
find out if the Pyramids were really that far away? | ||
THE ENGLISHMAN WAS SITTING ON A BENCH IN A STRUCTURE that smelled of | ||
animals, sweat, and dust; it was part warehouse, part corral. I never | ||
thought I’d end up in a place like this, he thought, as he leafed | ||
through the pages of a chemical journal. Ten years at the university, | ||
and here I am in a corral. | ||
But he had to move on. He believed in omens. All his life and all | ||
his studies were aimed at finding the one true language of the | ||
universe. First he had studied Esperanto, then the world’s religions, | ||
and now it was alchemy. He knew how to speak Esperanto, he | ||
understood all the major religions well, but he wasn’t yet an | ||
alchemist. He had unraveled the truths behind important questions, | ||
but his studies had taken him to a point beyond which he could not | ||
seem to go. He had tried in vain to establish a relationship with an | ||
alchemist. But the alchemists were strange people, who thought | ||
only about themselves, and almost always refused to help him. Who | ||
knows, maybe they had failed to discover the secret of the Master | ||
Work—the Philosopher’s Stone—and for this reason kept their | ||
knowledge to themselves. | ||
</p> | ||
<div> | ||
<h5 class="pageNumber">Page 27</h5> | ||
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