“The stadium was quiet. Cohen raised his hands and parted his fingers. He switched from English to Hebrew – not the new Hebrew of the Tel Aviv streets but the archaic language of the synagogue and the Diaspora, of the old men at the Gate of Heaven, the language of the priests, fifteen words. He blessed the people, and left the stage.”

“The stadium was quiet. Cohen raised his hands and parted his fingers. He switched from English to Hebrew – not the new Hebrew of the Tel Aviv streets but the archaic language of the synagogue and the Diaspora, of the old men at the Gate of Heaven, the language of the priests, fifteen words. He blessed the people, and left the stage.”

— Matti Friedman