Your love for me is founded in a sentiment. My love for you is founded in the body. A precarious interchange.
Let's have some good, old-fashioned literature, with a virgin and a moral.
Power makes gods. Virtue makes martyrs.
Young girls giggle with nervous delight at the erections they inspire.
Original sin reassures us that our slip was not the first.
Cynicism often draws correct conclusions, but nobody could live by its lights.