Kachina Quotes

He was special friend to Coyote Kachina, who taught him the secret of shape shifting.” “Grandfather blessed this earth with his presence for ninety-eight years. He had the courage to survive and left this world a better place than he found it. We shall all miss him.” She blew a kiss at Grandfather. “Goodbye, Governor. You are my sun beneath the earth, my heart above the clouds, and my prayer for a better life. I will see you every morning when the sun rises. I shall miss you when the sun sets. I will yearn for you on a cloudy day. Do not forget me.” She threw a silver locket with her picture into the grave.

You'd think someone who could see the beauty in nature and capture it on canvas could see mold on the shower tile.

There's something about him that's impossible to walk away from. Like an injured boy being held captive by his abuser. But Gage isn't his abuser; he's his warrior kachina. His real-life protector made of muscle and bone and capable of inflicting damage on anyone who stands in his way. Pushing anyone who has the potential to hurt Lucas away, but also everyone who has the potential to love him.

Sorry,” Wakefield insists, “but what exactly is cultural imperialism?” The boy turns his good eye to Wakefield. “That when Indian kids play with Mickey Mouse instead of kachinas. Kachinas mean something to their people. The Mouse means nothing.” “He must mean something,” Wakefield says. “Yeah, he means money. A Kachina tells the story of the earth, of the people, of dances, rituals, how to make rain… Talk to the fucking mouse and see what he tells you.

Likewise, Native American Hopi were traditionally taught by the Kachinas, spirit-like beings from other planets, who instructed them in agricultural techniques and gave them philosophical and moral guidelines that have shaped Hopi culture

If you want a woman, you have to take her accessories, end of story.

Like the kachinas, Barbie is both toy and mythic object—modern woman and Ur-woman—navelless, motherless, an incarnation of "the One Goddess with a Thousand Names." In the reservoir of communal memory that psychologist Carl Jung has termed the "collective unconscious," Barbie is an archetype of something ancient, matriarchal, and profound.

The ninth sign. A Blue Kachina in the sky. If it occurs, the Fourth World will end, all will die. The Fifth World will commence, but without all living creatures.

OWL KACHINA SONG Owls, owls, Big owls and small, Are staring And glaring, Children, at you all! Listen to them hooting, Tu-whit, tu-whoo. Look up from your cradle boards— They are looking at you. What are they saying? This is what they're saying: "If you cry, Old Yellow-Eyes will come, Old Yellow-Eyes will come And gobble you up." What else are they saying? This is what they're saying: "If you're naughty, Old Yellow-Eyes will come, Old Yellow-Eyes will come And swallow you whole." So sleep, children, sleep, Sleep and never cry, For then Old Yellow-Eyes Will pass you by. Hopi

How about we up the stakes? I win, you talk to me.” Now it was my turn to raise my eyebrows. “I’m afraid to ask what you mean by talk…” “Exactly that. I win, I get thirty minutes of your time tonight.” “To charm me and lie to me and pretend to be whoever you think I want?” “Nope. Tonight it’s me, in case you haven’t noticed. The real Rafe Martinez. A special one-night appearance.” “And if I win?” He grinned. “Then you get to spend thirty minutes with me, lucky birthday girl.” I laughed and motioned for Daniel to start the countdown. Rafe still pulled the “I don’t know what I’m doing” routine, starting slow and cautious, hoping I’d second-guess my assessment and take it easy. I didn’t. He realized that when my foot reached his shoulder level. By the midpoint, he’d shot up to my waist, but his muttered curses told me he’d underestimated how good I was--or overestimated how good he was--and it was clear he wasn’t going to catch up in time. So I stopped. Daniel leaned over and mouthed, “What are you doing?” Below, the others yelled, a cacophony of shouts and cheers and jeers. Rafe reached up, his bracelet hitting the rock with a ping. I glanced at it. A worn rawhide band with a cat’s-eye stone. I could see his tattoo better, too, as he pulled himself up, and I recognized the symbol. A crow mother kachina. Hopi. As he drew up alongside me, he cocked one brow. “You really want that kiss don’t you?” he said. “No, I just want to see what you can really do.

By the midpoint, he’d shot up to my waist, but his muttered curses told me he’d underestimated how good I was--or overestimated how good he was--and it was clear he wasn’t going to catch up in time. So I stopped. Daniel leaned over and mouthed, “What are you doing?” Below, the others yelled, a cacophony of shouts and cheers and jeers. Rafe reached up, his bracelet hitting the rock with a ping. I glanced at it. A worn rawhide band with a cat’s-eye stone. I could see his tattoo better, too, as he pulled himself up, and I recognized the symbol. A crow mother kachina. Hopi. As he drew up alongside me, he cocked one brow. “You really want that kiss don’t you?” he said. “No, I just want to see what you can really do.” He smiled then, a blaze of a grin that made me forget I was hanging twenty feet above the ground. “All right then,” he said. “No holds barred. On my count?” I nodded. “One, two, three…” We took off. I kept my face to the wall, throwing everything I had into the climb, certain I’d pull away to victory. But he stayed alongside me, his grunts and labored breathing telling me he was trying just as hard. I struggled to concentrate, but all I could hear was his breathing. It was weirdly relaxing, like the ticking of a metronome, and I found myself moving faster, smoother, the rock seeming to glide under me, hands and feet finding the notches and grips automatically, like climbing a tree, that blissful feeling of going higher and higher, the earth and everything earthly vanishing below me, the air getting thinner, the world quieter as I pulled away until-- My hand hit the top ledge and I jolted out of it, and looked over to see Rafe beside me, sweat dripping down his face, eyes glowing, face glowing, his gaze locked on mine again, lips parting to say something-- A jerk on my harness made me look up sharply as Daniel adjusted the rope, preparing to let me belay down. The look on his face told me who’d won.

By the midpoint, he’d shot up to my waist, but his muttered curses told me he’d underestimated how good I was--or overestimated how good he was--and it was clear he wasn’t going to catch up in time. So I stopped. Daniel leaned over and mouthed, “What are you doing?” Below, the others yelled, a cacophony of shouts and cheers and jeers. Rafe reached up, his bracelet hitting the rock with a ping. I glanced at it. A worn rawhide band with a cat’s-eye stone. I could see his tattoo better, too, as he pulled himself up, and I recognized the symbol. A crow mother kachina. Hopi. As he drew up alongside me, he cocked one brow. “You really want that kiss don’t you?” he said.