Youth Without Faith Is A Day Without

Is There A More Pitiable Spectacle Than That Of A Wife Contending With Others For That Charm In Her Husband's Sight Which No Philters And No Prayers Can Renew When Once It Has Fled Forever? Women Are So Unwise. Love Is Like A Bird's Song Beautiful And Eloquent When Heard In Forest Freedom, Harsh And Worthless In Repetition When Sung From Behind Prison Bars. You Cannot Secure Love By Vigilance, By Environment, By Captivity. What Use Is It To Keep The Person Of A Man Beside You If His Soul Be Truant From You?

To Vice, Innocence Must Always Seem Only A Superior Kind Of Chicanery.

Christianity ... Has Produced The Iniquities Of The Inquisition, The Egotism And Celibacy Of The Monasteries, The Fury Of Religious Wars, The Ferocity Of The Hussite, Of The Catholic, Of The Puritan, Of The Spaniard, Of The Irish Orangeman And Of The Irish Papist; It Has Divided Families, Alienated Friends, Lighted The Torch Of Civil War, And Borne The Virgin And The Greybeard To The Burning Pile, Broken Delicate Limbs Upon The Wheel And Wrung The Souls And Bodies Of Innocent Creatures On The Rack; All This It Has Done, And Done In The Name Of God.

A Great Love Is An Absolute Isolation And An Absolute Absorption.

Christianity Has Ever Been The Enemy Of Human Love; It Has Forever Cursed And Expelled And Crucified The One Passion Which Sweetens And Smiles On Human Life, Which Makes The Desert Blossom As The Rose, And Which Glorifies The Common Things And Common Ways Of Earth. It Made Of This, The Angel Of Life, A Shape Of Sin And Darkness ... Even In The Unions Which It Reluctantly Permitted, It Degraded And Dwarfed The Passion Which It Could Not Entirely Exclude, And Permitted It Coarsely To Exist For The Mere Necessity Of Procreation.