O ye monks, like as the great ocean has but one savor, the savor of salt, so has this religion and order but one, the savor of renunciation . . . Long is the night to him who is awake, long is the mile to him who is tired, long is life to the foolish who know not the True Law.
Like a high, thin curl of smoking incense, the chant arose from thousands of monks assembled near Rangoon, Burma. For 1600 hours it would go on, until all 14,804 pages of the sacred Buddhist...
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