It’s the same with a place a man is going to… only then he sends a scrap of his heart ahead… Your heart’s no guillemot to make this isle your rookey. It was right you came to fold your wings a a while and get your bearings for the flight to come. But your true nesting place lies farther on… [and] until you reach it, every other place you find will fret you like a cage.

Godric, Frederick Buechner

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