This was like watching murder. Defilement. And it was something worse than either of those things. Even among his family, black trade as they were, books were holy things.
Flowers of sin, like some black sun,Bloom in my dreams Their perfume-sodden fragrance Spreading through each heartbeat.
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Flowers of sin, like some black sun,Bloom in my dreams Their perfume-sodden fragrance Spreading through each heartbeat.
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Be the celebrators, celebrate! Already there is too much__he flowers have bloomed, the birds are singing, the sun is there in the sky__elebrate it! You are breathing and you are alive and you have consciousness, celebrate it!
Everything at some point has been declared the root of all evil.
Evil then consists not in being created but in the rebellious idolatry by which humans worship and honour elements of the natural world rather than the God who made them. The result is that the cosmos is out of joint. Instead of humans being God's wise vice-regents over creation, they ignore the creator and try to worship something less demanding, something that will give them a short-term fix of power or pleasure.
The world is evil only when you become its slave.
[M]an cannot be wicked without being evil, nor evil without being degraded, nor degraded without being punished, nor punished without being guilty. In short _ there is nothing so intrinsically plausible as the theory of original sin.