Look Well To The Fire Of Your

The Profession Of A Prostitute Is The Only Career In Which The Maximum Income Is Paid To The Newest Apprentice. It Is The One Calling In Which At The Beginning The Only Exertion Is That Of Self-indulgence; All The Prizes Are At The Commencement. It Is The Ever-new Embodiment Of The Old Fable Of The Sale Of The Soul To The Devil. The Tempter Offers Wealth, Comfort, Excitement, But In Return The Victim Must Sell Her Soul, Nor Does The Other Party Forget To Exact His Due To The Uttermost Farthing.

There Are Men So Incorrigibly Lazy That No Inducement That You Can Offer Will Tempt Them To Work; So Eaten Up By Vice That Virtue Is Abhorrent To Them, And So Inveterably Dishonest That Theft Is To Them A Master Passion.

Why Should The Devil Have All The Best Tunes?

The Greatness Of A Man's Power Is The Measure Of His Surrender.

There Appears To Be A Deeply Embedded Uneasiness In Our Culture About Throwing Away Junk That Can Be Reused. Perhaps, In Part, It Is Guilt About Consumption. Perhaps It Also Feels Unnatural. Mother Nature Doesn't Throw Stuff Away. Dead Trees, Birds, Beetles And Elephants Are Pretty Quickly Recycled By The System.