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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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| <button onclick="search()">Search</button> | ||
| </div> | ||
| </div> | ||
| <h6>Author</h6> | ||
| <h1>Paulo Coelho</h1> | ||
| <h6>Brazilian lyricist</h6> | ||
| <p id="paragraph"> | ||
| “You can’t offer me something that is already mine,” the chief | ||
| said, arrogantly. But he granted the travelers three days. | ||
| The boy was shaking with fear, but the alchemist helped him out | ||
| of the tent. | ||
| “Don’t let them see that you’re afraid,” the alchemist said. “They | ||
| are brave men, and they despise cowards.” | ||
| But the boy couldn’t even speak. He was able to do so only after | ||
| they had walked through the center of the camp. There was no need | ||
| to imprison them: the Arabs simply confiscated their horses. So, | ||
| once again, the world had demonstrated its many languages: the | ||
| desert only moments ago had been endless and free, and now it was | ||
| an impenetrable wall. | ||
| “You gave them everything I had!” the boy said. “Everything I’ve | ||
| saved in my entire life!” | ||
| “Well, what good would it be to you if you had to die?” the | ||
| alchemist answered. “Your money saved us for three days. It’s not | ||
| often that money saves a person’s life.” | ||
| But the boy was too frightened to listen to words of wisdom. He | ||
| had no idea how he was going to transform himself into the wind. | ||
| He wasn’t an alchemist! | ||
| The alchemist asked one of the soldiers for some tea, and poured | ||
| some on the boy’s wrists. A wave of relief washed over him, and the | ||
| alchemist muttered some words that the boy didn’t understand. | ||
| “Don’t give in to your fears,” said the alchemist, in a strangely | ||
| gentle voice. “If you do, you won’t be able to talk to your heart.” | ||
| “But I have no idea how to turn myself into the wind.” | ||
| “If a person is living out his Personal Legend, he knows | ||
| everything he needs to know. There is only one thing that makes a | ||
| dream impossible to achieve: the fear of failure.” | ||
| “I’m not afraid of failing. It’s just that I don’t know how to turn | ||
| myself into the wind.” | ||
| “Well, you’ll have to learn; your life depends on it.” | ||
| “But what if I can’t?” | ||
| “Then you’ll die in the midst of trying to realize your Personal | ||
| Legend. That’s a lot better than dying like millions of other people, | ||
| who never even knew what their Personal Legends were. | ||
| “But don’t worry,” the alchemist continued. “Usually the threat | ||
| of death makes people a lot more aware of their lives.” | ||
| THE FIRST DAY PASSED. THERE WAS A MAJOR BATTLE nearby, and a | ||
| number of wounded were brought back to the camp. The dead | ||
| soldiers were replaced by others, and life went on. Death doesn’t | ||
| change anything, the boy thought. | ||
| “You could have died later on,” a soldier said to the body of one | ||
| of his companions. “You could have died after peace had been | ||
| declared. But, in any case, you were going to die.” | ||
| At the end of the day, the boy went looking for the alchemist, | ||
| who had taken his falcon out into the desert. | ||
| “I still have no idea how to turn myself into the wind,” the boy | ||
| repeated. | ||
| “Remember what I told you: the world is only the visible aspect | ||
| of God. And that what alchemy does is to bring spiritual perfection | ||
| into contact with the material plane.” | ||
| “What are you doing?” | ||
| “Feeding my falcon.” | ||
| “If I’m not able to turn myself into the wind, we’re going to die,” | ||
| the boy said. “Why feed your falcon?” | ||
| “You’re the one who may die,” the alchemist said. “I already | ||
| know how to turn myself into the wind.” | ||
| ON THE SECOND DAY, THE BOY CLIMBED TO THE TOP OF A cliff near the | ||
| camp. The sentinels allowed him to go; they had already heard | ||
| about the sorcerer who could turn himself into the wind, and they | ||
| didn’t want to go near him. In any case, the desert was impassable. | ||
| He spent the entire afternoon of the second day looking out over | ||
| the desert, and listening to his heart. The boy knew the desert | ||
| sensed his fear. | ||
| They both spoke the same language. | ||
| ON THE THIRD DAY, THE CHIEF MET WITH HIS OFFICERS. He called the | ||
| alchemist to the meeting and said, “Let’s go see the boy who turns | ||
| himself into the wind.” | ||
| “Let’s,” the alchemist answered. | ||
| </p> | ||
| <div> | ||
| <h5 class="pageNumber">Page 54</h5> | ||
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