“You’re the first living soul I’ve seen in a week,” the man said. “Where are you going?”
On the third day, he found a man sitting on an upturned barrel outside a burned mill. The man wore the tattered robe of a Dominican friar, but his tonsure had grown into a wild grey thicket. the kingdom of heaven
And that, he thought, was why the plague could never burn it down. It was never made of gold. It was made of the only thing that survives any darkness: the choice to keep building it, here, now, with whatever is left. “You’re the first living soul I’ve seen in
The kingdom of heaven was not a place you arrived at. the kingdom of heaven