This creed of the desert seemed inexpressible in words, and indeed in thought.
An opinion can be argued with; a conviction is best shot. The logical end of a war of creeds is the final destruction of one, and Salammbo is the classical text-book instance.
To me an unnecessary action, or shot, or casualty, was not only waste but sin.
I wrote my will across the sky, in stars
I could write for hours on the lustfulness of moving Swiftly.
I haven't got a heart: only the former site of one, with a monument there to say that it has been removed and the area it occupied turned into a public garden, in pursuance of the slum-clearance scheme.