A celibate, like the fly in the heart of an apple, dwells in a perpetual sweetness, but sits alone, and is confined and dies in singularity.
Celibacy is not just a matter of not having sex. It is a way of admiring a person for their humanity, maybe even for their beauty.
How deep a wound to morals and social purity has that accursed article of the celibacy of the clergy been! Even the best and most enlightened men in Romanist countries attach a notion of impurity to the marriage of a clergyman. And can such a feeling be without its effect on the estimation of the wedded life in general? Impossible! and the morals of both sexes in Spain, Italy, France, and. prove it abundantly.
I think that one of the qualifications of artists should be a vow of celibacy. They should be confined to ruining only their own lives.
Marriage may often be a stormy lake, but celibacy is almost always a muddy horse pond.