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The Liturgy of the Hours is like entering a venerable Roman chapel in the south of Italy or a monastery lost in the fragrant hills of Greece. Time seems to stop, giving way to eternity.
On the cold slabs, polished over centuries, the burning embrace of the Mediterranean summer exalts an infinite, almost sacred love. In the air floats a Perfume of mysticism and mystery, hinting at a feverish, almost violent passion. Incense, olibanum, and myrrh, timeless aromas for a whole and impetuous passion, ready for communion.

