Your Body Is The Church Where Nature

There Is No God, Nature Sufficeth Unto Herself; In No Wise Hath She Need Of An Author.

Thread Of Their Days Without Pity, And In The Midst Of Life, Without Ever Concerning Themselves With This Fatal Moment, Living As Though They Were To Exist For Ever, They Disappear Into The Obscure Cloud Of Immortality, Uncertain Of The Fate Which Lies In Store For Them.

Are Not Laws Dangerous Which Inhibit The Passions? Compare The Centuries Of Anarchy With Those Of The Strongest Legalism In Any Country You Like And You Will See That It Is Only When The Laws Are Silent That The Greatest Actions Appear.

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.

Nature Has Not Got Two Voices, You Know, One Of Them Condemning All Day What The Other Commands.