And an old priest said, "Speak to us of religion." And he said: "Have I spoken this day of aught else. Is not religion all deeds and all reflection, and that which is neither deed nor reflection; but a wonder and a surprise ever springing in the soul, even while the hands hew the stone or tend the loom? Who can separate his faith from his actions, or his belief from his occupations?"
Yes, there is a nirvanah; it is in leading your sheep to a green pasture, and in putting your child to sleep, and in writing the last line of your poem.
