“Even after years of intimate contact and search this quality of strangeness in the desert remains undiminished. Transparent and intangible as sunlight, yet always and everywhere present, it lures a man on and on, from the red-walled canyons to the smoke-blue ranges beyond, in a futile but fascinating quest for the great, unimaginable treasure which the desert seems to promise. Once caught by this golden lure you become a prospector for life, condemned, doomed, exalted. One begins to understand why Everett Ruess kept going deeper and deeper into the canyon country, until one day he lost the thread of the labyrinth…”—Desert Solitaire by Edward Abbey
“If a man’s imagination were not so weak, so easily tired, if his capacity for wonder not so limited, he would abandon forever such fantasies of the supernal. He would learn to perceive in water, leaves and silence more than sufficient of the absolute and marvelous, more than enough to console him for the loss of the ancient dreams.”—Desert Solitaire by Edward Abbey
Móðir vor sem ert á jörðu,
Heilagt veri nafn þitt.
Komi ríki þitt,
Og veri vilji þinn framkvæmd ur í oss,
Eins og han er í þér.
Eins og þú.
Sendir hvern dag þína engla
Sendu þá einnig til oss.
Fyrirgefið oss vorar syndir,
Eins og vér bætum fyrir
Allar vorar syndir gagn- vart þér.
Og leið oss eigi til sjúkleika,
Heldur fær oss frá öllu illu,
því þín er jörðin
Líkaminn og heilsan.
Our Mother, who art in Earth,
Hallowed be Thy name.
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done
On us as it is in you.
As you send Thy angels every day,
Send them to us aswell
And forgive us our trespasses
As we forgive those
Who trespass against you.
And lead us not into sickness,
But deliver us from evil,
Because yours is the earth
And the body
And the health
“Hear me, this is powerful stuff
There’s no way for you to give this up
It’s in your body it’s all in your blood
It’ll tear you down it’ll lift you up
And keep you turning like it’s never enough
Alright, now, let’s turn it up
Every day do like a flower does
The sun it rises and she opens up
The sun it rises and she sings”—"Powerful Stuff" — Sean Hayes