I can scarce sit this bed let alone navigate there. I’ve lost my erection! Not in pleasure have I lost it, but in waiting. Not in ejaculation but in hopelessness. How go there? Am I to stammer out “Ffff – fa – fa – fuoo – oo – fuck!”? No way.
Bill Heidrick, The Road to the Sun: A Record of Self Initiation to Tipheret
Whether in fear of Hell or fear of the end of pleasure, men danced their lives out hopelessly, drank and fucked with abandon in the taverns. Convinced that intoxication could save them from the scourge, they hid against the cold miasma of the plague in the thick, hot mist of wine and sweat.
Mary Sativa, The Lovers’ Crusade [Amazon, Abebooks, Publisher, Local Library]
“Then how do they pay you for the pleasure of your company?” I ask. “With secrets”
Suzanne Collins, Catching Fire [Amazon, Bookshop, Publisher, Local Library]
Thy subtle breath
Shall flow like incense in between our cheeks,
Where pleasure seeks
In vain a wiser happiness.
Aleister Crowley, II. The Flight in The Five Kisses from Mysteries: Lyrical and Dramatic.
The pleasure which escapes them changes itself for them into a long irritation and desire. The more murderous are their excesses, the more it seems to them that supreme happiness is at hand. … One more bumper of strong drink, one more spasm, one more violence done to Nature… Ah! at last, here is pleasure; here is life … and their desire, in the paroxysm of its insatiable hunger, extinguishes itself for ever in death.
Éliphas Lévi, trans Aleister Crowley, Liber XLVI The Key of the Mysteries
We affirm on our altars our faith in ourself and our wills, our love of all aspects of the Absolute All.
And we make the Spirit shin combine with the Flesh teth in a single letter, whose value is 31 even as those of LA the Naught, and AL the All, to complete their Not-Being and Being with its Becoming, to mediate between identical extremes as their mean—the secret that sunders and seals them.
It declares that all somethings are equally shadows of Nothing, and justifies Nothing in its futile folly of pretending that something is stable, by making us aware of a method of Magick through the practice of which we may partake in the pleasure of the process.
Aleister Crowley, Liber V vel Reguli
In making love with yourself, dedicate your pleasure to the Spirit. At climax, place the image of deity at the crown center, and open yourself to the sense of presence.
Brandy Williams, Ecstatic Ritual: Practical Sex Magick
Concerning Death by Aleister Crowley in International, Dec 1917.
“Love still these phantoms of the earth; thou hast made thyself a king; if it please thee to play with toys of matter, were they not made to serve thy pleasure?” [via]
ΚΕΦΑΛΗ ΜΔ The Mass of the Phœnix in Liber CCCXXXIII, The Book of Lies by Aleister Crowley.
“He strikes Eleven times upon the Bell, and cries ABRAHADABRA.
I entered in with woe; with mirth
I now go forth, and with thanksgiving,
To do my pleasure on the earth
Among the legions of the living.” [via]