Title, Juana Tabor Volume 3 of Bibliotheca Homo Legens. Author, Hugo Wast. Publisher, Homo Legens, ISBN, , ; Juana Tabor by Hugo Wast, , available at Book Depository with free delivery worldwide. – Buy Juana Tabor – book online at best prices in India on Read Juana Tabor – book reviews & author details and more at.

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But, the priest submitted the case to the archbishop, who did not accept the document written with too much cunning, he demanded something more categorical.

Of being overcome and being afraid of what will be his own triumph. It was not the proper time to explain himself in too much detail, and the old friar prefered to continue speaking in general terms.

In order to rest his tired head, that night in his cell, he began to read a book in tbaor was told in detail of the death of Voltaire, foolish and unfortunate rabor, who, in the frightening trance was more interested in the destiny of his old skeleton, already rotting, than in that of his immortal soul. As an immense fig tree, uuana out by the centuries, its branches, which had borne tremendous fruit in ages past, was now drying out, without any new shoots coming up from the ancient root.

; Juana Tabor : Hugo Wast :

If he had given it is Spanish, there would have been even fewer that understood it. Pero si era nauseabunda la fetidez de mi boca, era incomparablemente peor la hediondez de mis pensamientos. With these thoughts, he began to pray, until, overcome juaja weariness, he fell fast asleep.

I am listening anxiously.

He tabog of the tricks by which he attempted to arrange it so that an ecclesiastical burial would not be denied him, which he desired only for the most inexplicable and contradictory vanity. I believed and trembled, knowing that one day we would meet face to face. The wooden board upon which, in keeping with the holy rule, he lay fully dressed must have seemed to him deliciously comfortable and the smoothened piece of wood that served as a pillow, soft as down.


The rays of divine grace habor, upon striking my heart, as arrows of marble against a rock.

666 ; Juana Tabor

And thus I came to the fearful day. As long as I, that is to say, my will, subsisted entrenched in that flesh, I was able to cry out my call to huana The burial ceremony having ended, each friar returned to his work, a little sadder and somewhat more alone as well because no novice would replace the one that had died and his cell would be turned into a refuge tanor vermin and bats.

A man without eyes could see more easily than a proud man and say: I was mad with blasphemy and sacrilege. The rebellion of Lucifer and his angels had not other cause than spiritual self-love. And my pride inebriated me telling me that I, foul and maggoty, could of my own free will resist grace, and take pleasure in my power and fight against God.

Do you know of any famous apostate antipopes from Argentina? But I lived still, scratching at the rotted mud of my flesh, that still for a few seconds more was preventing me from falling into the hands of God.

Then he knelt and kissed the sandled feet of the old man. No less than thirty-five years passed. But it was to enter into other religious orders: Despite the tonsure that insulted his arrogant head, when he mounted the pulpit, the people were left astonished and captivated by intense emotion. Voltaire, taking advantage of a sudden improvement, began to boast. Here is the original Spanish: Draw Thy sword, O Lord.

At midmorning, he would receive the visitors who needed his advice or his help, followed by the frugal lunch of the Gregorians, who followed the Trappist rule; afterwards, a brief period of spiritual reading which frequently turned into a brief siesta; and all of the other duties of the community. The Church of today is only the seed of the Church of the future, that will have three circles: Oh, the misery and contradiction of my pride! Posted by Karl Keller at 9: Jkana evangelists, Matthew, Mark and Luke say it with identical words: Te escucho con ansiedad.


The vocation of a priest rests upon two pillars.

After having had hundreds of houses in the world, populated by thousands of friars, there were no longer more than three or four monasteries in their last agony. In the final instant of my life, when, to alleviate my thirst I filled my mouth with foul excretions and I released that frightening shriek that is told of my life, when my eyes became fixed and all thought me dead.

The rigorous Gregorian Rule did not extinguish his spirit. He pleaded with God that the little stream that bubbled up in the sanctuary would be transformed into a mighty river like that in the vision of Ezekiel. Suddenly, death truly arrived and the philosopher died, not surrounded by flowers and friends and chatting and smiling philosphically, as his admirers imagined, rather blaspheming and naked, because his inflamed gut could not bear even a thread of clothing and yelling for a chunk of ice to slake his thirst.

When one of them is weakened, the other does not delay in weakening and everything collapses.

He must have slept barely two hours.