Does God want goodness or the choice of goodness? Is a man who chooses to be bad perhaps in some way better than a man who has the good imposed upon him?
Then, brothers, it came. Oh, bliss, bliss and heaven. I lay all nagoy to the ceiling, my gulliver on my rookers on the pillow, glazzies closed, rot open in bliss, slooshying the sluice of lovely sounds. Oh, it was gorgeousness and gorgeosity made flesh.
Goodness comes from within... Goodness is something chosen. When a man cannot choose he ceases to be a man.
How art thou, thou globby bottle of cheap stinking chip-oil? Come and get one in the yarbles, if you have any yarbles, you eunuch jelly, thou.
It’ll be your own torture,” he said, serious. “I hope to God it’ll torture you to madness.
Then we slooshied.
You were not put on this Earth just to get in touch with god.
Is the man who chooses the bad perhaps in some way better than a man who has the good imposed upon him?
What gives, O my little sister? Come thou and have a nice lay-down with your malenky droog in this bed.
Self-interest, fear of physical pain, drove him to that grotesque act of self-abasement. Its insincerity was clearly to be seen. He ceases to be a wrongdoer. He ceases also to be a creature capable of moral choice.
The scientific approach to life is not necessarily appropriate to states of visceral anguish.
Five days shalt thou labour, as the Bible says. The seventh day is the Lord thy God’s. The sixth day is for football.
The heresy of an age of reason. I see what is right and approve, but I do what is wrong.
The attempt to impose upon man, a creature of growth and capable of sweetness, to ooze juicily at the last round the bearded lips of God, to attempt to impose, I say, laws and conditions appropriate to a mechanical creation, against this I raise my sword-pen.
You must take your chance boy. The choice has been all yours.
Laugh and the world laughs with you, snore and you sleep alone.