When we had sufficiently graduated our advances towards the main point, by toying, kissing, clipping, feeling my breasts, now round and plump, feeling that part of me I might call a furnace-mouth, from the prodigious intense heat his fiery touches had rekindled there, my young sportsman, embolden'd by every freedom he could wish, wantonly takes my hand, and carries it to that enormous machine of his

Fokine did not mince words in describing the infamous closing moments of the ballet [L’Après-midi d’un faune], charging that Diaghilev used Nijinski as nothing more than a tool to shock his audience. He hinted that scandal was Diaghilev’s goal, for salaciousness would attract an audience.

Well, nobody else can make a decision but me because I was the President and the final decision comes to the President, you know. I used to have a sign on my desk that said, The Buck Stops Here. The buck stops at the president's desk when he's president of the United States, and he either makes the decisions or he lets them go by default, and you can't afford to do that when you're president.

Say, ye strangers to Care, and abounders in Mirth! what will he do, when he finds himself still subsisting in a state, where none of those Pleasures, for which alone he wished to subsist, can possibly any longer subsist with him?