Paulo Coelho’s “Eleven Minutes” Quotes (42 Quotes)

PAIN was no longer a cause of suffering, but a source of pleasure, Because they were redeeming humanity from its sins. Pain becomes joy, the meaning of life, pleasure..

Don't listen to the malicious comments of those friends who, never taking any risks themselves, can only see other people's failures.

The strongest love is the love that can demonstrate its fragility.

If you want to achieve your objectives, you have to be prepared for a daily dose of pain or discomfort. At first, it's unpleasant and demotivating, but in time you come to realise that it's part of the process of feeling good, and the moment arrives when, if you don't feel pain, you have a sense that the exercises aren't having the desired effect.

Profound desire, true desire is the desire to be close to someone.

Enamoured making love regularly, even when he doesn't making love.

The universe only makes sense when we have someone to share our feelings with.

I'm not a body with a soul, I'm a soul that has a visible part called the body

Read. Forget everything you've been told about books and read.

Facing the difficulties, I can choose either to be a poor victim or a great adventurer.

We live in a vale of tears...We can have all the dreams we like, but life is hard, implacable, sad.

I'm not a body with a soul, I'm a soul with a visible part called the body.

She thinks about the other prostitutes who work with her. She thinks about her mother and her friends. They all believe that man feels desire for only eleven minutes a day, and that they'll pay a fortune for it. That's not true; a man is also a woman; he wants to find someone, to give meaning to his life.

He's seeing my soul, my fears, my fragility, my inability to deal with a world which i pretend to master, but about which I know nothing

When I had nothing to lose, I had everything. When I stopped being who I am, I found myself.

It is not time that changes man nor knowledge the only thing that can change someone's mind is love.

She wants to drink that man too, and then she can forget forever the cheap wine that you gulp down and that makes you feel drunk, but always leaves you with a headache and an empty space in your soul.

How is it possible for the beauty that was there only minutes before to vanish so quickly?

Its best to live as if it were the first and last day of my life.

All my life, I thought of love as some kind of voluntary enslavement. Well, that's a lie: freedom only exists when love is present. The person who gives him or herself wholly, the person who feels freest, is the person who loves most wholeheartedly.

She was doing it because she had nothing to lose, because her life was one of constant, day to day frustration.

I am two women: one wants to have all the joy, passion and adventure that life can give me. The other wants to be a slave to routine, to family life, to the things that can be planned and achieved. I'm a housewife and a prostitute, both of us living in the same body and doing battle with each other.

Life always waits for some crisis to occur before revealing itself at its most brilliant.

And the person who loves wholeheartedly feels free.

She wasn't a victim of fate, she was running her own risks, pushing beyond her own limits, experiencing things which, one day, in the silence of her heart, in the tedium of old age, she would remember almost with nostalgia - however absurd that might seem.

I can choose either to be a victim of the world or an adventurer in search of treasure. It's all a question of how I view my life.

Life moves very fast. It rushes us from heaven to hell in a matter of seconds.

Anyone who is in love is making love the whole time, even when they're not. When two bodies meet, it is just the cup overflowing. They can stay together for hours, even days. They begin the dance one day and finish it the next, or--such is the pleasure they experience--they may never finish it. No eleven minutes for them.

Sometimes, you get no second chance and that its best to accept the gifts the world offers you.

I love you', though, were three words she had often heard during her twenty-two years, and it seemed to her that they were now completely devoid of meaning, because they had never turned into anything serious or deep, never translated into a lasting relationship.