I have never been to a brothel. I don't think I could go into one.
quote by Stephen Rea
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Related quotes
Fate-6
Fate
a fool in wise
a wise in fool
kind in cruel
cruel in kind
love in hell
a hell in love
divine in brothel
a brothel in divine
polygamy in joy
monogamy in lust
Fate is what...
we never thought of
we never dreamt of
yet, we always feel............
poem by Lily Peace Lago Every By To Ph
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BROTHELS IN TORONTO June 25th,2011
It seems we may indeed have open brothels in Toronto soon,
The Charter of Rights and a lady who wanted to be immune,
Went to the Ontario Supreme Court and won her case,
So an open Toronto brothel may no longer be a disgrace.
The religious types and Toronto politicians are confused,
While some of them I think are more likely very amused,
Can’t have a brothel next door to a politician though,
The bright lights and tourists might leave the street all aglow.
The powerful media moguls of course are not amused,
They know the religious activists, whose egos might be bruised,
We should make bylaws for where brothels should and should not be,
Maybe go to Amsterdam, look in windows and walk around and see.
June 25th,2011
poem by James Bredin
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He who has one foot in a brothel, has the other in a hospital.
There are no virgins in a brothel.
Netherlands Antillean proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think he's Will 's partying a lot in Cabo. I think he's running a brothel. I don't know what he's doing.
quote by Bradley Cooper
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To take part in this brothel through the payment of my taxes, that had become to me unbearable.
quote by Yannick Noah
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One may not regard the world as a sort of metaphysical brothel for emotions.
quote by Arthur Koestler
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In Hollywood a starlet is the name for any woman under thirty who is not actively employed in a brothel.
In Hollywood, a starlet is the name for any woman under thirty who is not actively employed in a brothel.
The best job that was ever offered to me was to become a landlord in a brothel. In my opinion it's the perfect milieu for an artist to work in.
quote by William Faulkner
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That man has missed something who has never left a brothel at sunrise feeling like throwing himself into the river out of pure disgust.
Gustave Flaubert in Best Things Anybody Ever Said
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The Ballad of Villon and Fat Madge
‘'Tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation.' -Falstaff
‘The night cometh, when no man can work.'
What though the beauty I love and serve be cheap,
Ought you to take me for a beast or fool?
All things a man could wish are in her keep;
For her I turn swashbuckler in love's school.
When folk dropp in, I take my pot and stool
And fall to drinking with no more ado.
I fetch them bread, fruit, cheese, and water, too;
I say all's right so long as I'm well paid;
‘Look in again when your flesh troubles you,
Inside this brothel where we drive our trade.'
But soon the devil's among us flesh and fell,
When penniless to bed comes Madge my whore;
I loathe the very sight of her like hell.
I snatch gown, girdle, surcoat, all she wore,
And tell her, these shall stand against her score.
She grips her hips with both hands, cursing God,
Swearing by Jesus' body, bones, and blood,
That they shall not. Then I, no whit dismayed,
Cross her cracked nose with some stray shiver of wood
Inside this brothel where we drive our trade.
When all's made up she drops me a windy word,
Bloat like a beetle puffed and poisonous:
Grins, thumps my pate, and calls me dickey-bird,
And cuffs me with a fist that's ponderous.
We sleep like logs, being drunken both of us;
Then when we wake her womb begins to stir;
To save her seed she gets me under her
Wheezing and whining, flat as planks are laid:
And thus she spoils me for a whoremonger
Inside this brothel where we drive our trade.
Blow, hail or freeze, I've bread here baked rent free!
Whoring's my trade, and my whore pleases me;
Bad cat, bad rat; we're just the same if weighed.
We that love filth, filth follows us, you see;
Honour flies from us, as from her we flee
Inside this brothel where we drive our trade.
I bequeath likewise to fat Madge
This little song to learn and study;
By god's head she's a sweet fat fadge,
Devout and soft of flesh and ruddy;
I love her with my soul and body,
So doth she me, sweet dainty thing.
If you fall in with such a lady,
Read it, and give it her to sing.
poem by François Villon
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The only way to spend New Year's Eve is either quietly with friends or in a brothel. Otherwise when the evening ends and people pair off, someone is bound to be left in tears.
quote by Wystan Hugh Auden
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Francois Villon
If I were Francois Villon and Francois Villon I,
What would it matter to me how the time might drag or fly?
_He_ would in sweaty anguish toil the days and night away,
And still not keep the prowling, growling, howling wolf at bay!
But, with my valiant bottle and my frouzy brevet-bride,
And my score of loyal cut-throats standing guard for me outside,
What worry of the morrow would provoke a casual sigh
If I were Francois Villon and Francois Villon I?
If I were Francois Villon and Francois Villon I,
To yonder gloomy boulevard at midnight I would hie;
'Stop, stranger! and deliver your possessions, ere you feel
The mettle of my bludgeon or the temper of my steel!'
He should give me gold and diamonds, his snuffbox and his cane--
'Now back, my boon companions, to our brothel with our gain!'
And, back within that brothel, how the bottles they would fly,
If I were Francois Villon and Francois Villon I!
If I were Francois Villon and Francois Villon I,
We both would mock the gibbet which the law has lifted high;
_He_ in his meager, shabby home, _I_ in my roaring den--
He with his babes around him, _I_ with my hunted men!
His virtue be his bulwark--my genius should be mine!--
'Go fetch my pen, sweet Margot, and a jorum of your wine!'
* * * * *
So would one vainly plod, and one win immortality--
If I were Francois Villon and Francois Villon I!
poem by Eugene Field
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Raids In Brothels
To have a raid in a brothel
Is to have a raid in an inn.
Hunger for sex and food is met.
Such raids amount to barbarism.
Sexual gratifications are
Denied by perverts, and the pair
Is prosecuted by the jealous
And punished by the sadists.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The society- incorrigible
Truth: the most respected,
But the least cared for
.
Wealth: the least appreciated,
But the most sought after
.
Brothel: the most condemned
But the vast practiced.
Adultery: the most sinful
But the most eventful.
Do you have any cord
Between your deed and word?
Ego builds up the society;
Instincts disrupt it.
24.04.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Welcome Burden
Shout!
Heavy! you want it heavy!
Welcome to my world, either way you pick youre winding down
Heavy! I want it heavy!
Welcome to my world, either way you pick youre winding down again
Gather your pathetic masses and bring them to me
To a world devoid of lie
To another time, to another place
And then they pick a man, (? ) tastes my misery
Rip away her disguise and brothel the lies that ya find
The truth is sickening!
We dont need to change it, really
I kind of like it ugly!
Lay it mean! it binding! seathing! blinding! screaming!
Gather your psychotic masses and bring them to me
To a world devoid of sanity
Another time, & another place
And then the violence creates calamity
Rip away her disguise and brothel the lies that ya find
The truth is sickening!
We dont need to change it, really
I kind of like it ugly!
The race of the mother culture is thickening!
The rape of the mother culture is nearing!
The face of the mother culture is sickening!
The rape of a mother is the loving I need
Bleeding now - 1! 2! 3! 4!
song performed by by Disturbed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eyes replace the skin.
Once, women stripped at night to earn their bread.
Now women strip in light to earn their butter.
Men have shifted their sex from skin to eyes.
Blue films meet what once the brothel stood for.
29.05.2001, Berh
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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City of Moon
City of Moon
If your heart is not ruined by wild beast
Touching the flower the sun spread smell sweet
Because of southern wind’s touch as storm rises in sea
Unknown lady with your touch I want to reach in moon city.
Touching the flower the sun spread smell sweet
Love that goes to brothel is not clean and nit
Unknown lady with your touch I want to reach in moon city
Puzzled vagabond wishes to be illuminated you are not lucky.
Love that goes to brothel is not clean and nit
Dwelling together with moon- is parallel unknown lady sweet
Puzzled vagabond wishes to be illuminated you are not lucky
In favorite dew bathed grass looks at sun and sea.
Dwelling together with moon- is parallel unknown lady sweet
Alas! The slaves become ruined when the sun and sea meet
In favorite dew bathed grass looks at sun and sea
Glided light is laughing as you appear to me.
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
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Each one is the destroyer
Every kind of sex is a crime
Except the marital relation,
You in the society claim.
Extramarital, premarital or
Brothel, all are committed
With mutual consent or contract.
Their carnal hunger is thus met.
You and I all like to indulge in it
And readily disapprove of it
When someone else enacts it.
As long as you condemn
Others’ sexual freedom
You are the destroyer of
Others’ inborn happiness.
17.11.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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