Thomas Cole Kaaterskill Falls

Thomas Cole Kaaterskill FallsClaude Monet Vetheuil In SummerClaude Monet The Luncheon
going to Ephebe, on a mission to the infidels. Deacon Vorbis picked me. He's my friend."
"Who's he?"
"He's the chief exquisitor. He . . . makes sure you're worshiped properly."
Om picked up the hesitation in Brutha's voice, and remembered the grating. And the sheer busyness below . . .
"He tortures people," he said coldly.
"Oh, no! The the process?"
"But that doesn't matter," said Brutha earnestly.
"What happens to us in this life is not really real.
There may be a little pain, but that doesn't matter. Not if it ensures less time in the hells after death."
"But what if the exquisitors are wrong?" said the tortoise.
"They can't be wrong," said Brutha. "They are guided by the hand of . . . by your hand . . . your front leg . . . I mean, your claw," he mumbled.inquisitors do that. They work very long hours for not much money, too, Brother Nhumrod says. No, the exquisitors just . . . arrange matters. Every inquisitor wants to become an exquisitor one day, Brother Nhumrod says. That's why they put up with being on duty at all hours. They go for days without sleep, sometimes.""Torturing people," mused the God. No, a mind like that one in the garden wouldn't pick up a knife. Other people would do that. Vorbis would enjoy other methods."Letting out the badness and the heresy in people," said Brutha."But people . . . perhaps . . . don't survive