Guilt is the source of sorrow,'tis the fiend, Th' avenging fiend,that follows us behind; With whips and stings.
Guilt is the source of sorrow,'tis the fiend, Th' avenging fiend,that follows us behind; With whips and stings.
To be a book-collector is to combine the worst characteristics of a dope fiend with those of a miser.
Then cold and dark my spirit sinks,
To see my light of life depart,
And every fiend of Hell methinks
Enjoys the anguish of my heart.
Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting -
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
I was once a shameless, full-time dope fiend.
Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy pen from lenders books, and defy the foul fiend.
Save for thee and thy lessons, man in society would everywhere sink into a sad compound of the fiend and the wild beast; and this fallen world would be as certainly a moral as a natural wilderness.
The Christian churches were offered two things: the spirit of Jesus and the idiotic morality of Paul, and they rejected the higher inspiration... Following Paul, we have turned the goodness of love into a fiend and degraded the crowning impulse of our being into a capital sin.
The ordinary man with extraordinary power is the chief danger for mankind - not the fiend or the sadist.
I started out to be a sex fiend, but I couldn't pass the physical.
I can forgive Alfred Nobel for having invented dynamite, but only a fiend in human form could have invented the Nobel Prize.
There was no fair fiend near him, not a sight
Or sound of awe but in his own deep mind.
And whether that my angel be turned fiend,
Suspect I may, yet not directly tell;
But being both from me both to each friend,
I guess one angel in another's hell.
I want my careless song to strike no minor key; no fiend to stand between my body's Southern song - the fusion of the South, my body's song and me.
Like a fiend in a cloud, With howling woe After night I do crowd And with night will go I turn my back to the east, From whence comforts have increased For light cloth seize my brain With frantic pain.
You may tell a man thou art a fiend, but not your nose wants blowing; to him alone who can bear a thing of that kind, you may tell all.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories