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<!DOCTYPE html>
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<html lang="en">
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<head>
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<meta charset="UTF-8">
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<meta http-equiv="X-UA-Compatible" content="IE=edge">
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<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0">
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<title>the alchemist</title>
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<link rel="stylesheet" href="style.css">
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</head>
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<body>
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<div class="container" >
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<div id="myHeader" class="header">
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<a href="index.html"><button class="home-button">Home</button></a>
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<button class="bookmark-button">Bookmark</button>
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<div class="wrapper">
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<input type="text" id="text-to-search" placeholder="Enter text to search...">
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<button onclick="search()">Search</button>
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</div>
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</div>
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<h6>Author</h6>
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<h1>Paulo Coelho</h1>
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<h6>Brazilian lyricist</h6>
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<p id="paragraph">
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The Arabs laughed at him, and the alchemist laughed along. They
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thought his answer was amusing, and they allowed the boy and the
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alchemist to proceed with all of their belongings.
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“Are you crazy?” the boy asked the alchemist, when they had
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moved on. “What did you do that for?”
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“To show you one of life’s simple lessons,” the alchemist
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answered. “When you possess great treasures within you, and try to
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tell others of them, seldom are you believed.”
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They continued across the desert. With every day that passed,
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the boy’s heart became more and more silent. It no longer wanted to
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know about things of the past or future; it was content simply to
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contemplate the desert, and to drink with the boy from the Soul of
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the World. The boy and his heart had become friends, and neither
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was capable now of betraying the other.
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When his heart spoke to him, it was to provide a stimulus to the
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boy, and to give him strength, because the days of silence there in
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the desert were wearisome. His heart told the boy what his
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strongest qualities were: his courage in having given up his sheep
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and in trying to live out his Personal Legend, and his enthusiasm
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during the time he had worked at the crystal shop.
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And his heart told him something else that the boy had never
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noticed: it told the boy of dangers that had threatened him, but that
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he had never perceived. His heart said that one time it had hidden
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the rifle the boy had taken from his father, because of the possibility
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that the boy might wound himself. And it reminded the boy of the
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day when he had been ill and vomiting out in the fields, after which
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he had fallen into a deep sleep. There had been two thieves farther
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ahead who were planning to steal the boy’s sheep and murder him.
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But, since the boy hadn’t passed by, they had decided to move on,
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thinking that he had changed his route.
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“Does a man’s heart always help him?” the boy asked the
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alchemist.
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“Mostly just the hearts of those who are trying to realize their
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Personal Legends. But they do help children, drunkards, and the
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elderly, too.”
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“Does that mean that I’ll never run into danger?”
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“It means only that the heart does what it can,” the alchemist
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said.
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One afternoon, they passed by the encampment of one of the
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tribes. At each corner of the camp were Arabs garbed in beautiful
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white robes, with arms at the ready. The men were smoking their
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hookahs and trading stories from the battlefield. No one paid any
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attention to the two travelers.
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“There’s no danger,” the boy said, when they had moved on past
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the encampment.
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The alchemist sounded angry: “Trust in your heart, but never
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forget that you’re in the desert. When men are at war with one
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another, the Soul of the World can hear the screams of battle. No
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one fails to suffer the consequences of everything under the sun.”
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All things are one, the boy thought. And then, as if the desert
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wanted to demonstrate that the alchemist was right, two horsemen
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appeared from behind the travelers.
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“You can’t go any farther,” one of them said. “You’re in the area
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where the tribes are at war.”
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“I’m not going very far,” the alchemist answered, looking
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straight into the eyes of the horsemen. They were silent for a
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moment, and then agreed that the boy and the alchemist could
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move along.
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The boy watched the exchange with fascination. “You dominated
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those horsemen with the way you looked at them,” he said.
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“Your eyes show the strength of your soul,” answered the
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alchemist.
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That’s true, the boy thought. He had noticed that, in the midst of
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the multitude of armed men back at the encampment, there had
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been one who stared fixedly at the two. He had been so far away
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that his face wasn’t even visible. But the boy was certain that he had
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been looking at them.
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Finally, when they had crossed the mountain range that
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extended along the entire horizon, the alchemist said that they were
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only two days from the Pyramids.
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“If we’re going to go our separate ways soon,” the boy said, “then
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teach me about alchemy.”
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“You already know about alchemy. It is about penetrating to the
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Soul of the World, and discovering the treasure that has been
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reserved for you.”
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“No, that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about transforming lead
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into gold.”
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The alchemist fell as silent as the desert, and answered the boy
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only after they had stopped to eat.
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“Everything in the universe evolved,” he said. “And, for wise
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men, gold is the metal that evolved the furthest. Don’t ask me why; I
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don’t know why. I just know that the Tradition is always right.
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“Men have never understood the words of the wise. So gold,
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instead of being seen as a symbol of evolution, became the basis for
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conflict.”
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“There are many languages spoken by things,” the boy said.
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“There was a time when, for me, a camel’s whinnying was nothing
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more than whinnying. Then it became a signal of danger. And,
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finally, it became just a whinny again.”
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But then he stopped. The alchemist probably already knew all
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that.
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</p>
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<div>
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<h5 class="pageNumber">Page 52</h5>
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<a href="alchemist51.html" class="previous">&laquo; Previous</a>
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<a href="alchemist53.html" class="next">Next &raquo;</a>
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</div>
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</div>
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<!-- script -->
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<script src="script.js"></script>
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</body>
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</html>

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