It Is Not The Opinions

Sex Without Pain Is Like Food Without Taste

Miserable Creatures, Thrown For A Moment On The Surface Of This Little Pile Of Mud, Is It Decreed That One Half Of The Flock Should Be The Persecutor Of The Other? Is It For You, Mankind, To Pronounce On What Is Good And What Is Evil?

What Does One Want When One Is Engaged In The Sexual Act? That Everything Around You Give You Its Utter Attention, Think Only Of You, Care Only For You...every Man Wants To Be A Tyrant When He Fornicates.

How Delightful Are The Pleasures Of The Imagination! In Those Delectable Moments, The Whole World Is Ours; Not A Single Creature Resists Us, We Devastate The World, We Repopulate It With New Objects Which, In Turn, We Immolate. The Means To Every Crime Is Ours, And We Employ Them All, We Multiply The Horror A Hundredfold.

It Requires Only Two Things To Win Credit For A Miracle: A Mountebank And A Number Of Silly Women.