The law of God, as quite plainly expressed in woman's construction is this: There shall be no limit put upon your intercourse with the other sex sexually, at any time of life. So it noticeably lacks in originality, necessarily.
This Bible is built mainly out of the fragments of older Bibles that had their day and crumbled to ruin. It has noble poetry in it and some clever fables and some blood-drenched history and some good morals and a wealth of obscenity and upwards of a thousand lies. It consists - utterly and entirely - of diversions which he cares next to nothing about, here in the earth, yet is quite sure he will like them in heaven. I give you my word, it has not a single feature in it that he actually values. His heaven is like himself: strange, interesting, astonishing, grotesque. It is as if a lost and perishing person in a roasting desert should be told by a rescuer he might choose and have all longed-for things but one, and he should elect to leave out water! has imagined a heaven, and has left entirely out of it the supremest of all his delights, the one ecstasy that stands first and foremost in the heart of every individual of his race - and of ours - sexual intercourse!.
When he is at his very, very best he is a sort of low grade nickel-plated angel at his worst he is unspeakable, unimaginable and first and last and all the time he is a sarcasm. At His feet stood three colossal figures, diminished to extinction, almost, by contrast - archangels - their heads level with His ankle-bone. His mighty bulk towered rugged and mountain-like into the zenith, and His divine head blazed there like a distant sun. Behind him stretched the illimitable continent of heaven, steeped in a glory of light and color before him rose the black night of Space, like a wall.
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