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Yazar: Machado de Assis

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"My beloved Priestess, did you speak to me of the stars, those
loving lights in the heavens? They do seem to speak, but I can
not understand and know what they say. Do you, dear Mother, and
can you tell me?"
This first ray of awakening memory was more radiant to the
Priestess than a thousand stars could have produced if all their
rays could have blended into one. But calmness was her external
bearing. Seldom any manifestation of an unusual emotion, was
permitted to find an outward expression either in manner or
speech. She had attained that perfect command of herself that
neither joy nor sorrow, good nor evil, praise nor blame, could
unbalance the perfect poise and tranquillity of her developed
Soul.

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