In philosophy if you aren't moving at a snail's pace you aren't moving at all.
But fantasy kills imagination, pornography is death to art.
Only love has clear vision. Hatred has cloudy vision. When we hate we know not what we do.
Intense mutual erotic love, love which involves with the flesh all the most refined sexual being of the spirit, which reveals and perhaps even ex nihilo creates spirit as sex, is comparatively rare in this inconvenient world.
Perhaps misguided moral passion is better than confused indifference.
People from a planet without flowers would think we must be mad with joy the whole time to have such things about us.