Cenote Quotes

...the deepest, most powerful love stories did not happen before the wedding but after. Perhaps we do not hear those stories because they are far more sacred and only meant for two hearts.

To this day, I tend to victim-blame people who come back from vacation with green hair or complaining about anything other than getting sunburnt at the beach. Slipping on a rock while climbing waterfalls during your spring break trip to Cenote Tres Oches of Homún, Mexico, and breaking an ankle? Why were you there? Who told you that would be a good idea? Were you taking a selfie? Like, why would you put yourself in that position? Respect the waters, for they are deep and insidious.

The crowd as silent,holding their breaths.Hot wind rustled in the trees as the ax gleamed in the sun.Luce could feel that the end was coming,but why? Why had her soul dragged her here? What insight abouther past,or the curse, could she possibly gain from having her head cut off? Then Daniel dropped the ax to the ground. "What are you doing?" Luce asked. Daniel didn't answer.He rolled back his shoulders, turned his face toward the sky, and flung out her arms. Zotz stepped forward to interfere,but when he touched Daniel's shoulder,he screamed and recoiled as if he'd been burned. And then- Daniel's white wings unfurled from his shoulders.As they extended fully from his sides,huge and shockingly bright against the parched brown landscape, they sent twenty Mayans hurtling backward. Shouts rang out around the cenote: "What is he?" "The boy is winged!" "He is a god! Sent to us by Chaat!" Luce thrashed against the ropes binding her wrists and her ankles.She needed to run to Daniel.She tried to move toward him,until- Until she couldn't move anymore. Daniel's wings were so bright they were almost unbearable. Only, now it wasn't just Daniel's wings that were glowing. It was...all of him. His entire body shone.As if he'd swallowed the sun. Music filled the air.No,not music, but a single harmonious chord.Deafening and unending,glorious and frightening. Luce had heard it before...somewhere. In the cemetery at Sword&Cross, the last night she'd been there,the night Daniel had fought Cam,and Luce hadn't been allowed to watch.The night Miss Sophia had dragged her away and Penn had died and nothing had ever been the same.It had begun with that very same chord,and it was coming out of Daniel.He was lit up so brightly,his body actually hummed. She swayed where she stood,unable to take her eyes away.An intense wave of heat stroked her skin. Behind Luce,someone cried out.The cry was followed by another,and then another,and then a whole chorus of voices crying out. Something was burning.It was acrid and choking and turned her stomach instantly. Then,in the corner of her vision,there was an explosion of flame, right where Zotz had been standing a moment before. The boom knocked her backward,and she turned away from the burning brightness of Daniel,coughing on the black ash and bitter smoke. Hanhau was gone,the ground where she'd stood scorched black.The gap-toothed man was hiding his face,trying hard not to look at Daniel's radiance.But it was irresistible.Luce watched as the man peeked between his fingers and burst into a pillar of flame. All around the cenote,the Mayans stared at Daniel.And one by one,his brilliance set them ablaze.Soon a bright ring of fire lit up the jungle,lit up everyone but Luce. "Ix Cuat!" Daniel reached for her. His glow made Luce scream out in pain,but even as she felt as if she were on the verge of asphyxiation, the words tumbled from her mouth. "You're glorious." "Don't look at me," he pleaded. "When a mortal sees an angel's true essence, then-you can see what happened to the others.I can't let you leave me again so soon.Always so soon-" "I'm still here," Luce insisted. "You're still-" He was crying. "Can you see me? The true me?" "I can see you." And for just a fraction of a second,she could.Her vision cleared.His glow was still radiant but not so blinding.She could see his soul. It was white-hot and immaculate,and it looked-there was no other way to say it-like Daniel. And it felt like coming home.A rush of unparalleled joy spread through Luce.Somewhere in the back of her mind,a bell of recognition chimed. She'd seen him like this before. Hadn't she? As her mind strained to draw upon the past she couldn't quite touch,the light of him began to overwhelm her. "No!" she cried,feeling the fire sear her heart and her body shake free of something.

Violence against women is not a recent phenomenon. The bones of my sisters litter history and prehistory. The mass grave at Cahokia. The sacred cenote at Chichén Itzá. The Iron Age girl in the bog, hair shorn, blindfolded and leashed. Women are conditioned to be wary. Walk faster at the sound of footsteps. Peek through the hole before opening the door. Stand by the controls in the empty elevator. Fear the dark. Was Primrose simply another marcher in a random parade of female victims?

I was prepared to be on my Olivia Pope ‘you want me, earn me’ shit after you played games at the cenote, but you showed up looking too damn tempting.

In their sample, it appears that males were more likely to enter the cenote as body parts than women.

cenote.

Con mi abuela y mi madre habíamos viajado algunas veces a Yucatán, al pueblo de mi abuela de cielos inmensos, a los cenotes de azules imposibles y a las ruinas escondidas entre las ceibas. En mi mente había postales de ese otro mundo en el que mi abuela se transformaba en guía y traductora. Aunque transcurría en Chiapas y no en Yucatán, la novela de Rosario Castellanos me hacía revivir y repensar esas imágenes.

Even as a curious song filters through the streets of San Miguel, one with the heartbeat of the guitarron, one with a melancholy melody, it isn’t enough to help him forget that he must continue to speak the creature's name. Not because it prevents the old gods from coming back to life, but to keep them from slipping into those dark places, like sun-obscured cenotes, where slivers of light cannot reach far enough to keep those malevolent things from being forgotten.

Even as a curious song filters through the streets of San Miguel, one with the heartbeat of the guitarron, one with a melancholy melody, it isn’t enough to help him forget that he must continue to speak the creature's name. Not because it prevents the old gods from coming back to life, but to keep them from slipping into those dark places, like sun-obscured cenotes, where slivers of light cannot reach far enough to keep those malevolent things from being forgotten.

I think it started when Mercado told us we might run into a dead body.

I began to realize the stupidity of what I was about to do.

By now, all the Farkles had been rounded up and were being herded back down the road toward the resort. “I PAID FOR A SNORKEL TRIP TO A CENOTE!” Edna Farkle proclaimed. “I HAD BETTER GET A REFUND FOR THIS, OR I WILL WRITE A VERY BAD REVIEW ONLINE. COMPRENDE?

Traduzco y traduzco, pensó con desconsuelo. Todo este tiempo la paso traduciendo. Traduje el cenote, la cabaña, la chica del CICY, la mujer esquiva, el hombre armado, la selva. Traduzco a mi idioma natal este español de México, traduzco mi vida a esta vida de otros. Traduzco con la conciencia del error, de que sólo es posible una aproximación al original y la fe en que al menos translado a mis palabras alguna de las verdades que recibo. Vengo de una ciudad que ve, que piensa, que siente y habla otro lenguaje. Cuando salga de acá, si es que salgo, no podré contar exactamente que me sucedió. Será una traducción.

Traduzco y traduzco, pensó con desconsuelo. Todo este tiempo la paso traduciendo. Traduje el cenote, la cabaña, la chica del CICY, la mujer esquiva, el hombre armado, la selva. Traduzco a mi idioma natal este español de México, traduzco mi vida a esta vida de otros. Traduzco con la conciencia del error, de que sólo es posible una aproximación al original y la fe en que al menos traslado a mis palabras alguna de las verdades que recibo. Vengo de una ciudad que ve, que piensa, que siente y habla otro lenguaje. Cuando salga de acá, si es que salgo, no podré contar exactamente que me sucedió. Será una traducción.