There's nothing more debauched than thinking.This sort of wantonness runs wild like a wind-borne weedon 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.
-Wisława Szymborska
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