Pigs May Like Honey, But That Doesn't

If A Woman Never Lets Herself Go, How Will She Ever Know How Far She Might Have Got?

Revolution Is The Festival Of The Oppressed.

As Angelo Discovered In Measure For Measure, Nothing Corrupts Like Virtue.

The Older Woman's Love Is Not Love Of Herself, Nor Of Herself Mirrored In A Lover's Eyes, Nor Is It Corrupted By Need. It Is A Feeling Of Tenderness So Still And Deep And Warm That It Gilds Every Grass Blade And Blesses Every Fly. It Includes The Ones Who Have A Claim On It, And A Great Deal Else Besides. I Wouldn't Have Missed It For The World.

The Pain Of Sexual Frustration, Of Repressed Tenderness, Of Denied Curiosity, Of Isolation In The Ego, Of Greed, Suppressed Rebellion, Of Hatred Poisoning All Love And Generosity, Permeates Our Sexuality. What We Love We Destroy.