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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> | ||
| <div class="wrapper"> | ||
| <input type="text" id="text-to-search" placeholder="Enter text to search..."> | ||
| <button onclick="search()">Search</button> | ||
| </div> | ||
| </div> | ||
| <h6>Author</h6> | ||
| <h1>Paulo Coelho</h1> | ||
| <h6>Brazilian lyricist</h6> | ||
| <p id="paragraph"> | ||
| “You must always know what it is that you want,” the old king | ||
| had said. The boy knew, and was now working toward it. Maybe it | ||
| was his treasure to have wound up in that strange land, met up with | ||
| a thief, and doubled the size of his flock without spending a cent. | ||
| He was proud of himself. He had learned some important things, | ||
| like how to deal in crystal, and about the language without | ||
| words…and about omens. One afternoon he had seen a man at the | ||
| top of the hill, complaining that it was impossible to find a decent | ||
| place to get something to drink after such a climb. The boy, | ||
| accustomed to recognizing omens, spoke to the merchant. | ||
| “Let’s sell tea to the people who climb the hill.” | ||
| “Lots of places sell tea around here,” the merchant said. | ||
| “But we could sell tea in crystal glasses. The people will enjoy | ||
| the tea and want to buy the glasses. I have been told that beauty is | ||
| the great seducer of men.” | ||
| The merchant didn’t respond, but that afternoon, after saying his | ||
| prayers and closing the shop, he invited the boy to sit with him and | ||
| share his hookah, that strange pipe used by the Arabs. | ||
| “What is it you’re looking for?” asked the old merchant. | ||
| “I’ve already told you. I need to buy my sheep back, so I have to | ||
| earn the money to do so.” | ||
| The merchant put some new coals in the hookah, and inhaled | ||
| deeply. | ||
| “I’ve had this shop for thirty years. I know good crystal from bad, | ||
| and everything else there is to know about crystal. I know its | ||
| dimensions and how it behaves. If we serve tea in crystal, the shop | ||
| is going to expand. And then I’ll have to change my way of life.” | ||
| “Well, isn’t that good?” | ||
| “I’m already used to the way things are. Before you came, I was | ||
| thinking about how much time I had wasted in the same place, while | ||
| my friends had moved on, and either went bankrupt or did better | ||
| than they had before. It made me very depressed. Now, I can see | ||
| that it hasn’t been too bad. The shop is exactly the size I always | ||
| wanted it to be. I don’t want to change anything, because I don’t | ||
| know how to deal with change. I’m used to the way I am.” | ||
| The boy didn’t know what to say. The old man continued, “You | ||
| have been a real blessing to me. Today, I understand something I | ||
| didn’t see before: every blessing ignored becomes a curse. I don’t | ||
| want anything else in life. But you are forcing me to look at wealth | ||
| and at horizons I have never known. Now that I have seen them, and | ||
| now that I see how immense my possibilities are, I’m going to feel | ||
| worse than I did before you arrived. Because I know the things I | ||
| should be able to accomplish, and I don’t want to do so.” | ||
| It’s good I refrained from saying anything to the baker in Tarifa, | ||
| thought the boy to himself. | ||
| They went on smoking the pipe for a while as the sun began to | ||
| set. They were conversing in Arabic, and the boy was proud of | ||
| himself for being able to do so. There had been a time when he | ||
| thought that his sheep could teach him everything he needed to | ||
| know about the world. But they could never have taught him Arabic. | ||
| There are probably other things in the world that the sheep can’t | ||
| teach me, thought the boy as he regarded the old merchant. All they | ||
| ever do, really, is look for food and water. And maybe it wasn’t that | ||
| they were teaching me, but that I was learning from them. | ||
| “Maktub,” the merchant said, finally. | ||
| “What does that mean?” | ||
| “You would have to have been born an Arab to understand,” he | ||
| answered. “But in your language it would be something like ‘It is | ||
| written.’” | ||
| </p> | ||
| <div> | ||
| <h5 class="pageNumber">Page 24</h5> | ||
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