Quotes About Wantonness

Dancing begets warmth, which is the parent of wantonness.

Dancing begets warmth, which is the parent of wantonness. It is, Sir, the great grandfather of cuckoldom.

So long as idleness is quite shut out from our lives, all the sins of wantonness, softness, and effeminacy are prevented; and there is but little room for temptation.

A sweet disorder in the dressKindles in clothes a wantonness.

How absurd these critics must seem to me, who in their modern wantonness have become so ingenious. They want to interpret my Tannhauser as specifically Christian and impute to him a tendency to impotent glorification!

Lust is an immoderate wantonness of the flesh, a sweet poison, a cruel pestilence; a pernicious poison, which weakeneth the body of man, and effeminateth the strength of the heroic mind.

I reveal myself, then, at last: I am a villian, for I created wantonly, and a blackguard, for I destroyed without compassion; I have no excuse.

Try not to have idols: they are interchangeable and lead to a wantonness that is easily mistaken for love.

I write of youth, of love, and have access by these to sing of cleanly wantonness.

Wantonness might be sheer desperation, masking a suicidal self-debasement, but it might also represent a joyful, lusty sexuality that indicated, at heart, a vast generosity of spirit.

One sign of these conditions is the ease with which people enter into debt and live contentedly with it. People are consciously living beyond their means in order to maintain the appearance of affluence. This is a product of wantonness: willingly falling headlong into debt in order to achieve a certain material standard of living.

He made a blushing cital of himself, And chid his truant youth with such a grace As if he mastered there a double sprite Of teaching and of learning instantly. There did he pause: but let me tell the world: If he outlive the envy of this day, England did never owe so sweet a hope, So much misconstrued in his wantonness.

There's nothing more debauched than thinking. This sort of wantonness runs wild like a wind-borne weed on a plot laid out for daisies. Nothing's sacred for those who think. Calling things brazenly by name, risque analyses, salacious syntheses, frenzied, rakish chases after the bare facts, the filthy fingering of touchy subjects, discussion in heat--it's music to their ears.

Beauty combined with wantonness frequently ends in the drawn twitch, fixed eye and helpless limbs of life-in-death. It is Nature's revenge on the outraged body,—and do you know, Eternity's revenge on the impure Soul is extremely similar?