Excerpt from The Making of Religion
One day as you stood at the foot of a mountain you looked up and saw a little cloud upon the summit. Elsewhere the sky was clear, but on the peak the cloud rested as if it were becalmed. You climbed the mountain. Then you saw that it was not calmly resting there, "shepherded by the slow, unwilling wind The wind" was keen, and was driving the cloud away.
You stood and watched the particles of hurrying mist.
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