Undoubtedly there used to be a form of demotic happiness, connected to the functioning of the whole, which we are no longer able to understand

afflicted with the pleasing sobriquet of “Crabs from the Cunt of Mary.”

based on the belief that concupiscence is a venal thing, scarcely important, unfit to turn man away from the path to salvation

I had expected a more or less sumptuous meal, punctuated by sybaritic delights; I was quickly disillusioned. When it came to food, the prophet was a devotee of the greatest frugality

Cop, his arms stretched skyward, sang in a stentorious voice

I think above all that the disappearance of his crushing male presence had liberated the followers, and given them a desire to experience some lighter and more ludic moments.

shaped by an event that provokes a salutary shock in her

his eyes frozen in a rictus of horror