Nubia Quotes

In the Nile Valley, civilization resulted from man’s adaptation to that particular milieu. As declared by the Ancients and by the Egyptians themselves, it originated in Nubia. This is confirmed by our knowledge that the basic elements of Egyptian civilization are neither in Lower Egypt, nor in Asia, nor in Europe, but in Nubia and the heart of Africa; moreover, that is where we find the animals and plants represented in hieroglyphic writing....

A crazy country, choking air, polluted hearts, treachery. Treachery and treason.

Nubia is Wonder Woman’s Black twin sister, and Sam Wilson is a Black guy who used to be the Falcon but is now Captain America.

Cel ce se pregătește să sară departe e bine să-și îndoaie mai întâi picioarele. Victoria vine mereu la sfârșit.

Her eyes blurred with tears as he kissed the part in the center of her hair. "I wasn't sure we'd have a chance to say goodbye," he said. "I leave this afternoon for the war in Nubia." When Luce lifted her head, Daniel cupped her damp cheeks in his hands. "Layla, I'll return before the harvest.Please don't cry. In no time you'll be sneaking back into my bedchamber in the dark of night with platters of pomegranates just like always. I promise." Luce took a deep, shuddering breath. "Goodbye." "Goodbye for now." His face grew serious. "Say it: Goodbye for now." She shook her head. "Goodbye, my love. Goodbye." The reed curtain parted. Layla and Don broke from their embrace as a cluster of guards with their spears drawn barreled into the room. Kafele led them, his face dark with rage. "Get the girl," he said, pointing at Luce. "What's going on?" Daniel shouted as the guards surrounded Luce and reshackled her hands. "I order you to stop. Unhand her." "Sorry,Commander," Kafele said. "Pharaoh's orders. You should know by now-when Pharaoh's daugher is not happy,Pharaoh is not happy." They marched Luce away as Daniel shouted, "I'll come for you,Layla! I'll find you!" Luce knew he would. Wasn't that how it always played out? They met, she got into trouble,and he showed up and saved the day-year in and year out across eternity,the angel swooping in at the last minute to rescue her.It was tiring to think about. But this time when he got there,she would have the starshot waiting. The thought sent a raw pain through her gut. A well of tears rose up inside her again,but she swallowed them. At least she had gotten to say goodbye.

The only thing that could spoil a day was people…. People were always the limiters of happiness except for the very few that were as good as spring itself. –Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

In the palm tree courtyard of the Villa Vinea, Nubia finished telling Aristo about her adventures in North Africa and Egypt. ‘Amazing,’ he kept saying. ‘That’s amazing.’ The jasmine-scented courtyard was dimly lit by bronze hanging lamps, some of them were reflected in the mirror smooth pool beside them. The silver light of the rising moon illuminated the tops of the four palm trees. ‘Tomorrow,’ said Aristo softly, ‘I am going to gather all the children together and begin to teach them. It’s what I know how to do, and it will keep them busy and occupied. Do you think that’s a good idea?’ ‘Yes,’ said Nubia. ‘That is a very good idea. You are a wonderful teacher, Aristo.’ The air was filled with the scent of jasmine, but as he moved a little closer she caught a subtle whiff of his musky lavender scent. It made her dizzy. ‘Nubia,’ he said softly. ‘I want to tell you something.’ The tone of his voice made her heart begin to pound. ‘Something you said a few days ago . . . about being old enough for love . . . For a long time I thought . . . But then Flavia said . . . and I couldn’t bear to think . . . I’ve been such a fool . . .’ Nubia couldn’t understand what he was saying. So she willed the pulsing roar in her ears to be quiet and when it was, she heard him say: ‘I loved Miriam so much!’ Nubia felt sick. How could she compete with the most beautiful girl in the Roman Empire? A girl whose beauty would never fade or grow wrinkled? She had been right not to tell Aristo her feelings. He would laugh at her. Or despise her. Or worst of all: pity her. In the darkness she felt him take her hand in his. The shock of his touch was so powerful that she almost cried out. ‘You’re trembling again,’ he said. ‘Are you cold?’ ‘No,’ she whispered. She wanted to cry out: Why do you still love Miriam? She never loved you. But I do. I will always love you. But she knew it would be the worst thing she could do. So instead she snatched her hand from his and ran upstairs and groped her way along the dim corridor to the bedroom and threw herself onto the bed. And in the lonely darkness, she wept.

After their short stop at the tavern, Nubia took her turn beside Feles at the front, and Flavia joined Caudex in the back. The road was climbing more steeply now, and the line of the aqueduct guided Flavia’s eye back down to Ostia and the red brick lighthouse – minuscule at this distance – with its dark plume of smoke rising straight into the dirty blue sky. They passed through woods of poplar, ash and alder. Presently Ostia was hidden from view. On any other day the tree-shaded road would have been deliciously cool. But today Flavia’s blue tunic was soaked with perspiration and clinging to her back. ‘Caudex?’ Flavia whispered because the big slave’s eyes were closed. He didn’t reply and presently she too dozed fitfully, occasionally jolted out of sleep when the cart left the deep ruts in the stone road and rocked from side to side. The rumble of the cart was louder back here

Ms. Perry, I didn’t ask you to ride me so hard. You didn’t have to give yourself that much of a workout… but your reverse cowgirl position was an incredible view.” Nubia’s lip curled into a sneer. “No, you didn’t ask me to. But the way your toes curled up, and all that moaning you were doing was such wonderful motivation that I just couldn’t help myself.

Why are you sweating her so hard?” “Have you seen her?” “Obviously.” “Then why the fuck do you have to ask? Nubia is put a ring on it fine. Tell your other chicks it’s over fine. Eat the booty like –” “I get it, damn.

[Egyptian texts about the Shasu and the Land of Yahu] An inscription in a temple of Amon in Soleb, Nubia, from the reign of Amenhotep III (first half of the fourteenth century), lists several beduin (Shasu) territories including 'the Shasu land of Yahu'. The name also occurs in a copy of the same list in the Amara West temple in Nubia from the reign of Rameses II (second half of thirteenth century), and both could go back to an even earlier prototype. There is broad agreement that the name corresponds to one of the forms of the name of Yahweh, that it refers to a region in which the Shasu in question lived and moved around, and that either the deity could have taken the name of the region or the region could have taken its name from the deity worshipped by the beduin who lived there. (pp. 139-140) (from 'The Midianite-Kenite Hypothesis Revisited and the Origins of Judah', JSOT 33.2 (2008): 131-153)

Crazy, or perfect? I get great sex from an amazing man, while maintaining my personal space and freedom. What more could I want?” She lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t know, love? Companionship? Someone to hold you at night?” “Who says I don’t get that?” Nubia laughed as she dropped her hands from my shoulders. “Oh, I’m sure you get all of that. From Tariq. Because that’s your damned man!

This. You, being sick. You’re talking about surgeries, and chemo, while you’re pregnant, Nubia. Like, what the fuck do I say to you? How do I process this shit, move forward, interact with you, love you, stay with you, take care of you, through this? This is a lot to think about, out of the blue. How the hell do I deal with this?

There, by the Golden Gate, in the heart of a mighty concourse, waited the lords of Byzantium: the lesser Caesars and Despots and Sebastocrators, the Grand Logothete in his globular headgear, the Counts of the palace, the Sword Bearer, the Chartophylas, the Great Duke, the thalassocrats and polemarchs, the Strateges of the Cretan archers, of the hoplites and the peltasts and the cataphracts; the Silentiaries, the Count of the Excubitors, the governors of the Asian Themes, the Clissourarchs, the Grand Eunuch, and (for by now all Byzantine history had melted into a single anachronistic maelstrom) the Prefects of Sicily and Nubia and Ethiopia and Egypt and Armenia, the Exarchs of Ravenna and Carthage, the Nomarch of Tarentum, the Catapan of Bari, the Abbot of Studium. As a reward for bringing good tidings, I had by this time assumed the Captaincy of the Varangian Guard; and there they were, beyond the galleons and the quinqueremes in corruscating ranks of winged helmets, clashing their battle axes in homage.

What's my name again?' she muttered as they closed the distance. 'Nefersekhmet,' he answered. 'Princess Nefersekhmet. Of Nubia.' She snorted. 'Jesus. How the hell do you expect me to remember all that? I don't even know what it means!' 'Sekhmet is the name of an Egyptian goddess,' Sef explained, lowering his voice to a whisper. 'Her purview was wrath and war.She was known as the Mistress of Dread. The Lady of Slaughter. She Who Mauls. Given your temper, I thought it was fitting.' Nikki sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. 'What about the other part?' 'Nefer?' he asked. 'Well, that one's simple. It means beautiful.' He offered her his arm. 'And you are.

As we understand philosophy today, we often think of the works of Europeans, who often associate philosophy themselves to Greece and Rome and totally ignoring the true source of the knowledge of the Greeks such as Aristotle, Socrates and Plato, whose references to Africa and Egypt and Nubia can fill up more tomes than have already been presented to us.   And

The Free People of Earth do not conquer. The Muslim portions of Sudan will be respected, and all prisoners will be returned, as soon as we have the pledge of Caliph Alai and of the Sudanese government that they recognize Nubia as a nation and as part of the Free People of Earth. The Sudanese Air Force will be returned to Sudan, along with their air bases. We respect the sovereignty of Sudan and of all nations. But we will never recognize the right of any nation to persecute a stateless minority within their borders. When it is within our power, we will grant such minorities a state within the Constitution of the Free People of Earth and defend their national existence.

He replaced the old gods with a sole God, the Aten, who had no image or form, a universal God not just for Egypt, but also for Kush (Nubia) in the south and Syria in the north, a God for the whole world. He was a poet who wrote the hymn to Aten that has a striking resemblance to Psalm 104 of the Bible.

With a cry of horror, Nubia turned to hide her face in Aristo’s tunic, and she felt his strong arms encircle her protectively. The giant was Mindius’s evil bodyguard, Ursus.

What is it?’ said Flavia, looking from Nubia to Aristo and back. They stood side by side, both smiling. Their eyes had a strange shine. Nubia wore a beatific look on her face and Aristo looked almost boyish. ‘Great Juno’s peacock!’ cried Flavia. ‘You’re betrothed!’ A look of utter astonishment flitted across Aristo’s face. Nubia’s smile faded and her golden eyes grew wide. ‘No!’ she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. ‘It is not that.’ Aristo laughed. ‘Of course not! It’s something even better.

Jonathan ben Mordecai, to his friends Flavia, Nubia and Lupus, and to his tutor Aristo. By the time you read this I will be gone. Don’t be upset that I didn’t say goodbye. You probably would have tried to convince me not to go. And you might have succeeded. But this is something I have to do. For the past few weeks I have been having dreams. Or visions. I’m not sure what they are. I only know they have been getting stronger and stronger, especially a dream of a spiritual battle in the constellation of Gemini. I have had this dream several times. Tonight I had it again and I finally think I know what it means: Titus is in danger from his brother Domitian. Once I tried to kill Titus. Now I have a chance to make it right and I think God is calling me to do this. I am going to go to Rome to warn Titus and to help if I can. Please don’t follow me. It will be very dangerous. If I reach Titus I will try to explain about the warrant for our arrest and get him to revoke it. Then you will be able to come home again. In the meantime, stay in Ephesus, so that I will know where to find you. I pray that you will all stay happy and healthy and that one day I will see you again. Shalom. P.S. I don’t hear the voice anymore. P.P.S. Erase this message once you have read it.

Go ahead then!’ she cried. ‘Look at it. You won’t be able to read it even if you tried. I dropped it in the bath last night.’ Tranquillus took the tablet and opened it and frowned. Then his eyes grew wide as he read: ‘Give me a thousand kisses, Flavia, then another hundred, then a thousand, then a second hundred, then a thousand more—’ ‘It does not say that!’ Flavia snatched the tablet back. ‘You’re just quoting Catullus.’ She eagerly examined the two inner leaves of the tablet, but they were perfectly blank. ‘You’re disappointed!’ cried Tranquillus triumphantly. ‘You actually thought he wrote that.’ Then his smile faded. ‘You love him, don’t you, Flavia? You love Flaccus?’ ‘No I don’t!’ Tranquillus looked at her friends. ‘She loves Flaccus, doesn’t she?’ Aristo and Lupus both shrugged their shoulders and Nubia looked down at her lap. ‘No, I don’t,’ repeated Flavia, biting her lower lip. ‘Of course I don’t!’ ‘If you say so,’ said Tranquillus. He looked away. Flavia turned her head too, and looked out the back of the carruca at the passing tombs. And for some reason the Greek epitaph came to mind: Eat, drink, be merry and make love; all below here is darkness.

Nubia closed her eyes and prayed silently. ‘Dear Lord, I am not afraid to die. But please help us do the right thing. Amen.

Nubia saw no use in telling her that the world operated under laws Thula could never change, and that our sole obligation was to ourselves, to our happiness and the happiness of the ones we loved.

As Nubia played the flute, it was if her finger tips caressed each one of those she loved, those whom she would never see again

And Aristo – the storyteller – lost in the music. Nubia hadn’t told him that the song was about him; she had been too shy. His curly head was down but she could see his thick eyelashes and as she watched his fingers moving swiftly over the strings, a huge wave of affection washed over Nubia. The music which had arisen in her heart now flowed back to her from him. He and the music were one. And because she loved the music, she loved him, too.