Margaret looked up at him from where she sat by the window.
"Oh, Brother Gregory, what's wrong with your hand"
"I'm just scratching it; it itches."
"Really, is it red?"
"No, it's just a bite. You gave me a flea."
"I don't have fleas, Brother Gregory," insisted Margaret.
"Everyone has fleas, Margaret. It's part of God's plan."
"I don't. I wash them off."
"Margaret, you haven't any sense at all. They just hop back. You can't wash enough to keep them off."
"I do."
"Aren't you afraid your skin will come off? It could, you know. That's much worse than fleas." Brother Gregory spoke with an air of absolute certainty.
"Everyone tells me that. It hasn't come off yet."
"Margaret, you're too hardheaded for your own good. Now take for your next sentence, 'Fleas do not wash off.'"
"Is this right?" She held up the tablet, and Brother Gregory shook his head in mock indignation.
"I despair of you, Margaret. Flea is not spelled with one e--it's spelled with two.
Tags: humor middle-ages
Há qualquer coisa de libertador associada à perda de tudo. Primeiro chora-se, depois fica-se atordoado; em seguida enumera-se aquilo que se perdeu e reflecte-se sobre a dureza do futuro, pensando que nunca conseguiremos obter outras coisas como aquelas que desapareceram. Finalmente, depois de tudo isso, sente-se uma estranha leveza. Sem as coisas que sempre tivemos, passamos a ser outra pessoa, qualquer pessoa, ninguém. É uma sensação esquisita, como a de estarmos embriagados, abandonando-nos à embriaguez. (..) De repente senti-me capaz de qualquer coisa, por muito arrojada que fosse.
Judith Merkle RileyTags: jardim-da-serpente
He didn't want to puff her up. Puffed-up women are one of the original sources of trouble in the world. If anyone knew that, it was he. He counted it as one of his duties to mankind to keep women from puffing themselves up, though it had been a most monumental duty in his own marriage. A job requiring a hero. It was one of those things that God, being male, questioned you about before you were let into heaven, and he was proud to say that he hadn't neglected it.
Judith Merkle RileyTags: women chauvanism
How funny we are, I thought, the way we dance about each other, each afraid of being hurt by the other.
Judith Merkle RileyTags: love
Why the Romans, Father?" I asked him one afternoon.
"Because, my child, they teach us how to bear suffering in a world of injustice where all faith is dead," he answered.
Tags: life lesson pain injustice death faith suffering child dead father roman
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