I Have Done No Passably Decent Job

Money-crimes Have An Abstract Quality. History Is Laden With The Victims Of Gold, But Their Remains Are Odourless.

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 Don't Think We Can Ever Learn Much From Ultra-sensitive, Shifty Faces, Skilled In Disguise, That Hide Themselves In Lust, As Beasts Hide To Die.

God! How Is It That We Fail To Recognize That The Mask Of Pleasure, Stripped Of All Hypocrisy, Is That Of Anguish?

God Knows That We Should Not Despise Anything. We Must Do Our Best.