Chapter 24 a woman named maria

His head was always held high, and the light of God shone in his eyes. He is often melancholy, but his melancholy is the love shown to the suffering and the comfort to the lonely. When he smiles, his smile is like the longing of those who seek the unknown, like stardust falling on the eyes of a child, or like a piece of bread in the throat. He is melancholy, but his melancholy rises to his lips and melts into a smile. His melancholy is like the golden slowness in the forest when autumn comes to the world, and sometimes like the moonlight shining on the lake. When he smiled, his lips seemed to sing at a wedding feast.

But he is melancholy, and his melancholy is the melancholy of those who grow wings and do not wish to soar above their fellows.