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“Is this place really nearer to God? Is the wall thin between our whispers…and his listening? I only know the world grows less and less — Here what matters is conquering the wind, coming home dryshod, getting the fire lit.

I am not sure whether there is no time here or more time, whether the light is stronger or just easier to see. That is why I keep returning, thirsty, to this place that is older than my understand, younger than my broken spirit.”

— Iona by Kenneth Steven