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For where God built a church, there the Devil would also build a chapel.
I grew up on the South Island of New Zealand, in a city chosen and beloved by my parents for its proximity to the mountains - Christchurch is two hours distant from the worn saddle of Arthur's Pass, the mountain village that was and is my father's spiritual touchstone, his chapel and cathedral in the wild.
Even Michelangelo got paid for doing the Sistine Chapel. To those artists who say they're doing it for the love of art, I say: Get real.
The Sistine Chapel is an extraordinary work of education - it lays out all the early books of the Bible.
I remember how my mother would bring us to chapel on Sundays... and my father used to wait outside. One of the things that I picked up from my father and my mother was the sense that religion often gets in the way of God. For me, at least, it got in the way.
Nature is our chapel.
One can easily tell that the creator of the paintings in the Sistine Chapel was above all a sculptor.
John Brown first swam into my vision in the 1960s when I was a political activist in the civil rights movement and the anti-war movement at Chapel Hill, where I went to university.
When I'm building my dome in my chapel, and I had a vision - I've worked on perpetual motion and I haven't never give it up yet. I still think it could be done, perpetual motion. I had a vision of a un resist able windmill.
We can have open and good discussion with our Republican brothers and sisters. But when we walk into the chapel we should leave our political differences out in the parking lot.
I was sent to boarding school - a grim place. The only good thing the headmaster did for us was every Sunday evening in the winter he would show us films in the chapel. He couldn't afford a sound projector, so we saw silent films, which you could then still rent from photographic shops.
Before I took the veil, I was ornamented for the ceremony, and was clothed in a rich dress belonging to the Convent, which was used on such occasions; and placed not far from the altar in the chapel, in the view of a number of spectators who had assembled, perhaps about forty.
I am a Protestant. I am a communicant at the Church of the Holy Family, an Episcopal church in Chapel Hill, North Carolina.
I was born in 1970 in Illinois, but all the life I remember I've spent in Chapel Hill, N.C.
Everybody thought I was crazy. They thought I should take the money and run. But there was just something special about being a senior at Chapel Hill. I just couldn't leave.
There are no conditions in which we subordinate the interests of the class as a whole to the interests of any sect, any chapel, any separate organization.
If that's your definition of the Clinton faction, then I think that that seems to be in ascendancy. That might include a guy like John Edwards, who's just starting this new center in Chapel Hill to deal with issues of poverty and work.
I had always dreamed of living in Chapel Hill. When I was a college student at Hollins University in Virginia, I came down to Chapel Hill for summer school and just loved it.
I grew up in a modern home, but my grandmother lived across the street in an old house that was built when churches were illegal in Mexico. She had a chapel in the home, right between the kitchen and dining room.
But I feel truly wowed by the architecture and the meaning of the architecture if you get lost in it and think about the man hours in the smallest little chapel, and the love involved. God it's fantastic.
It would have been the equivalent of Jackson Pollock's attempts to copy the Sistine Chapel.
St. Paul's Chapel stands - without so much as a broken window. Little miracle.
Every night, half an hour before curtain up, the bells of St. Malachy's, the Actors' Chapel on New York's 49th Street, peal the tune of 'There's No Business Like Show Business.' If you walk the streets of the theatre district before a show and see the vast, enthusiastic lines it sounds like a calling: there is certainly no place like Broadway.
Since I wrote to you last we have got our chapel beautifully lighted with gas and have had our anniversary.
When I started out, I wanted to paint the Sistine Chapel. But I didn't have the content.
Martin Luther King, Jr.
C. S. Lewis
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