Some kind of religious ritual, a dance to greet the sun? Barbaric.
N K Jemisin, Emergency Skin [Amazon]
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Consider also:
- “Then I am alone, he told himself. I am the last of the Jedi. He seemed to hear Ben’s voice, faint and indistinct, as if from a great distance. ‘Not the last of the old Jedi, Luke. The first of the new.'”
- “‘Why do you think it does work? It’s not as if any of this stuff is true.’ ‘Maybe devils love ritual as much as people do,’ she said.”
- “green of the honeyed muse, green of the rough caress of ritual, green undaunted by reason or delirium, green of jealous joy, green of the secret holy violence of the thyrsos, green of the sacred iridescence of the dance”
- “These are the things that life is all about. These moments. It’s not about the rituals. It’s not about getting by. It’s about the stack of tiny little moments of joy and love that add up to a lifetime that’s been worthwhile. You can’t measure them; you can only capture them, like snapshots in your mind. All that joy, all that greatness, that’s God.”
- “The jewel has facets,” said the Chinese, “and it is possible that many religions are moderately true.” “I agree with that,” said Barnard heartily. “I never did believe in sectarian jealousies. Chang, you’re a philosopher, I must remember that remark of yours. ‘Many religions are moderately true.’ You fellows up on the mountain must be a lot of wise guys to have thought that out. You’re right, too, I’m dead certain of it.” “But we,” responded Chang dreamily, “are only moderately certain.”