Religion Itself Becomes Offensively Monotonous. On Every

Sex Is The Sacred Song Of The Soul; Sex Is The Sanctuary Of Self.

Do What Thou Wilt Shall Be The Whole Of The Law.

If One Were To Take The Bible Seriously One Would Go Mad. But To Take The Bible Seriously, One Must Be Already Mad.

The Greatest, Like Rembrandt, Paint A Gallant, A Hag, And A Carcass With Equal Passion And Rapture; They Love The Truth As It Is. They Do Not Admit That Anything Can Be Ugly Or Evil; Its Existence Justifies Itself. This Is Because They Know Themselves To Be Part Of An Harmonious Unity; To Disdain Any Item Of It Would Be To Blaspheme The Whole. The Thelemite Is Able To Revel In Any Experience Soever; In Each He Recognizes The Tokens Of Ultimate Truth. It Is Surely Obvious, Even Intellectually, That All Phenomena Are Interdependent, And Therefore Involve Each Other.

It Is A Terrible Error To Let Any Natural Impulse, Physical Or Mental, Stagnate. Crush It Out, If You Will, And Be Done With It; Or Fulfil It, And Get It Out Of The System; But Do Not Allow It To Remain There And Putrefy. The Suppression Of The Normal Sex Instinct, For Example, Is Responsible For A Thousand Ills. In Puritan Countries One Inevitably Finds A Morbid Preoccupation With Sex Coupled With Every Form Of Perversion And Degeneracy.