Holy Place Quotes

“I had come to the canyon with expectations. I wanted to see snowy egrets flying against the black schist at dusk; I saw blue-winged teal against the green waters at dawn. I had wanted to hear thunder rolling in the thousand-foot depths; I heard the guttural caw of four ravens…what any of us had come to see or do fell away. We found ourselves at each turn with what we had not imagined.”
― Barry López, Crossing Open Ground

“Kuna vitu vitatu ndani ya mtu: kuna hiari, kuna ufahamu, na kuna mwili. Hiari inatawaliwa na Mungu; ufahamu unatawaliwa na malaika mwema; mwili unatawaliwa na nyota lakini chini ya usimamizi wa malaika wema: malaika wema walisimamisha jua na mwezi kwa ajili ya Yoshua na wana wa Israeli juu ya Gibeoni na katika bonde la Aiyaloni, walirudisha jua nyuma kwa ajili ya Hezekia mfalme wa Yuda na kwa ajili ya nabii Isaya, na waliifanya dunia ‘kuvaa koti’ ghafla wakati wa kusulubiwa kwa Mwanakondoo wa Mungu Anayeondoa Dhambi. Moyoni ni mahali patakatifu. Hata malaika wema hawawezi kuona ndani ya moyo wa mtu, ni Mungu pekee mwenye uwezo wa kufanya hivyo, na alichokihifadhi Mungu ndani ya moyo huo ni hiari ya mtu ya kuchagua mema au mabaya.”
― Enock Maregesi

“I stood in a round garden with high white walls. I felt that I had seen it before, but I couldn't remember where. Trees ringed the edge of the garden; all around me were great hedges of rosebushes, blossoming in cascades of crimson, white, and red-tipped gold flowers. Overflowing petals lay spattered on the ground beneath them. The light was a liquid, living thing that swirled and eddied through the leaves, rustling them like wind. In the corner of my eye, I thought it had shaped itself into figures that stood watching with still, perilous attention-- but when I looked, they were gone.
Before me stood a dried bush, barely more than a skeleton, just a few brown leaves clinging to its twigs. On the topmost branch perched a brown-and-gray sparrow, its black eyes bright.
Thank you for the crumbs, it said.
My throat itched and stuck to itself as I swallowed. "You," I whispered. "You're the Lar of this house.”
― Rosamund Hodge, Cruel Beauty