A Man Given To Vice Is Always

Lust Is A Mysterious Wound In The Side Of Humanity; Or Rather, At The Very Source Of Its Life! To Confound This Lust In Man With That Desire Which Unites The Sexes Is Like Confusing A Tumor With The Very Organ Which It Devours, A Tumor Whose Very Deformity Horribly Reproduces The Shape.

Like All Truly Pure Souls She [chantal] Quickly Resigned Herself To Past Faults, Thought Only Of How To Repair Whatever Harm They Had Done. "of All My Daughters, You Are Certainly The Least Bothered By Scruples Of Conscience," Abbé Chevance Used To Say.... Even Sin, Once The Will Is Detached And No Longer Nourishes It, Withers And Dies Sterile. It Is In The Secret Of Intentions, Like In A Decomposing Humus, In The Dark Forest Of Future Sins, Unpardoned Sins, Half Dead, Half Living, That New Poisons Are Distilled.

I Have Just Discovered Something I Have Always Known: We Can No More Escape From One Another Than We Can Escape From God.

The Devil, You See, Is That Friend Who Never Stays With Us To The End.

Hell, Madame, Is To Love No Longer.