'Tis chastity, my brother, chastity. She that has that is clad in complete steel, and like a quivered nymph with arrows keen may trace huge forests and unharbored heaths, infamous hills and sandy perilous wilds, where through the sacred rays of chastity, no savage fierce, bandit, or mountaineer will dare to soil her virgin purity.
A woman's chastity consists, like an onion, of a series of coats.
An unattempted lady could not vaunt of her chastity.
Chastity does not mean abstention from sexual wrong; it means something flaming, like Joan of Arc.
Chastity is a monkish and evangelical superstition, a greater foe to natural temperance even than unintellectual sensuality.
Chastity is the cement of civilization and progress. Without it there is no stability in society, and without it one cannot attain the Science of Life.
God hath prepared a little coronet or special reward (extraordinary and beside the great crown of all faithful souls) for those who have not defiled themselves with women.
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot? The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
It is fatally easy for Western folk, who have discarded chastity as a value for themselves, to suppose that it can have no value for anyone else. At the same time as Californians try to re-invent ''celibacy,'' by which they seem to mean perverse restraint, the rest of us call societies which place a high value on chastity ''backward.''
Much of the modern resistance to chastity comes from men's belief that they ''own'' their bodies — those vast and perilous estates, pulsating with the energy that made the worlds, in which they find themselves without their consent and from which they are ejected at the pleasure of Another!
The generative energy, which, when we are loose, dissipates and makes us unclean, when we are continent invigorates and inspires us. Chastity is the flowering of man; and what are called Genius, Heroism, Holiness, and the like, are but various fruits which succeed it.
There are few virtuous women who are not bored with their trade.
There are no chaste minds. Minds copulate wherever they meet.
These people abstain, it is true: but the bitch Sensuality glares enviously out of all they do.
Your old virginity is like one of our French withered pears: it looks ill, it eats dryly.