11. Or like a bird flying through the air -- leaving no proof of its passing; it whips the light air with the stroke of its pinions, tears it apart in its whirring rush, drives its way onward with sweeping wing, and afterwards no sign is seen of its passage.





“Tenhamos sempre horror ao pecado mortal e nunca deixemos de caminhar na estrada da santa eternidade.” São Padre Pio de Pietrelcina