Why do maps fascinate me? Partly because I love fault lines. The border between doubt and certainty. The place between choice, faith, passivity, and acceptance
Who is he? A man who seeks goodness and truth, or a man who burns books and people? Is he heir to his great-grandfather’s legacy?
How can a human being who loves life so much face death like it is no loss?
I never gave you that letter. I regret this now. It was selfish, wrong. But take a moment to understand the foolishness of an old man
“No!” she cries out. “One who is born a Jew remains a Jew. We were simply returning to him what he had lost”
“You and your father have been accused of Judaizing a good Christian citizen. A man who came from France to innocently seek your advice”
“There are times when an… an illness comes over me.” He forces himself to say the word. Illness. It is not the devil
“You may think that the reason all this is befalling us is because there is something wrong with your soul, and everywhere you go, it causes havoc and evil”
He clenches his fists. These self-satisfied Jews, what do they know? What do they know of being alone in the world?
In the center is Jerusalem, with a verse from Psalms: “Joy of the world.” He takes a breath. It is exquisite
“You unleashed an accusation. I want to know why. What sequence of events do you desire to trigger by involving the Holy Inquisition in your quarrel?”