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Prostitution Quotes

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Prostitution Quotes

“Once you are defiled, you can't get back your purity by any means, instead, you will only look for ways to be defiled over and over again.”

“Places where sex is sold are the same everywhere. They always have a viewing window or something similar: a bar, a walkway, a stage where you can see bodies and, if permitted, feel them. It has to be a space that facilitates the circulation of these bodies, so that they can be appraised, touched, negotiated. And it must have an area in which to complete---once agreed upon, once contracted---sexual intercourse. The noise of people or glasses or music always helps. Smoke. Something unspeakable in the air.”

“Yeah, I'm a drug addict. And a prostitute. The whole world knows. Not because I robbed my own family. Not because I ended up behind bars. Not because I've been hassled by the cops when soliciting customers from a local street corner. Not because I'm shooting up in the public bathrooms at your city park. Everyone knows because I told them all. I never tried to hide any of it. I never felt the need to.”

“To celebrate his prosperity, fellow employees and friends urged him to take a young concubine to "serve him". Even Ye Ye's boss, the London-educated K. C. Li, jokingly volunteered to "give" him a couple of girls with his bonus. Ye Ye reported all this in a matter-of-fact way in a letter to his wife, adding touchingly that he was a "one-woman man".”

“*Prostitution* is a euphemism for rape incidents that the victim and the economy profits from.”

“The gravel road widened into a large turnaround where three similar looking and designed brothels sat waiting for customers. They were called Sheila's Front Porch, Tawny's High Five Ranch and Miss Delilah's House of Holies. "Nice," Rachel said as we surveyed the scene. "why are these places always named after women -- as if women actually own them?" "You got me. I guess Mister Dave's House of Holies wouldn't go over so well with the guys." Rachel smiled. "You're right. I guess it's a shrewd move. Name a place of female degradation and slavery after a female and it doesn't sound so bad, does it? It's packaging.”

“When basic human needs are ignored, rejected, or invalidated by those in roles and positions to appropriately meet them; when the means by which these needs have been previously met are no longer available: and when prior abuse has already left one vulnerable for being exploited further, the stage is set for the possibility these needs will be prostituted. This situation places a survivor who has unmet needs in an incredible dilemma. She can either do without or seek the satisfaction of mobilized needs through some "illegitimate" source that leaves her increasingly divided from herself and ostracized from others. While meeting needs in this way resolves the immediate existential experience of deprivation and abandonment. it produces numerous other difficulties. These include experiencing oneself as “bad” or "weak" for having such strong needs; experiencing shame and guilt for relying on “illegitimate” sources of satisfaction: experiencing a loss of self-respect for indulging in activities contrary to personal moral standards of conduct; risking the displeasure and misunderstanding of others important to her; and opening oneself to the continued abuse and victimization of perpetrators who are all too willing to selfishly use others for their own pleasure and purposes under the guise of being 'helpful.”

“From my understanding, this is a matter of value?” asked Andrei. “Like other men have had her leg, so her leg doesn’t mean anything to you anymore?” “No... no, that’s not even it. It’s that you can’t pretend to give someone your leg. Even if it’s just a photo. Legs can’t pretend. You can, but legs can’t. And when someone gets your leg, it’s given. And you multiply that by a hundred, but she has only two. Two little legs. And it’s as if her legs know. The body is not meant to be mass distributed, Andrei. We’re not large gods in Olympus—we need assistance climbing up the stairs and eventually porcelain teeth to chew our food. Thousands of strangers have every part of my girlfriend’s body, down to the ears. But the one thing they don’t have is a woman in the other room sending herself away. They don’t have that,” cried Raphael. “I have that.”

“He taunted me, "Pony boy, pony boy," because I liked ponies. Pony boy. He always came to vent his anger of dragons on me. They must really like us. They hide behind their Wasp Queen and pretend to hate us dragons, but in truth they love us. Why else would they bother with fucking us? That sentence probably turned you off. Thing is, I'm a very vulgar boy. -Chance Karrucci (the Sweet Dragon)”

“But when I was a prostitute I protected myself, fought back at every moment, was never off guard. To protect my deeper, inner self from men, I offered them only an outer shell. I kept my heart and soul, and let my body plat its role, its passive, inert, unfeeling role. I learnt to resist by being passive, to keep myself whole by offering nothing, to live by withdrawing to a world of my own. In other words, I was telling the man he could have my body, he could have a dead body, but he would never be able to make me react, or tremble, or feel either pleasure or pain. I made no effort, expended no energy, gave no affection, provided no thought. I was therefore never tired or exhausted.”

“How is it possible to live? Life is so hard?’ ‘You must be harder than life, Firdaus. Life is very hard. The only people who really live are those who are harder than life itself.’ ‘But you are not hard, Sharifa, so how do you manage to live?’ ‘I am hard, terribly hard, Firdaus.’ ‘No, you are gentle and soft.’ ‘My skin is soft, but my heart is cruel, and my bite deadly.’ ‘Like snake?’ ‘Yes, exactly like a snake. Life is a snake. They are the same, Firdaus. If the snake realises you are not a snake, it will bite you. And if life knows you have no sting, it will devour you.”

“I want you to understand that the difference between being a sugar baby versus being a prostitute is the connection. Although sometimes “sugar dating” is just a code for escorting, those people are just not doing it right. To really sugar date correctly, you have to feel something for the man who takes care of you, and he has to feel something for you.”

“Most women sell sex; most of them just don’t take cash (nor do they each sell to more than one ‘client’ at a time).”

“We men really, really, really like sex. We like sex so much, many of us are willing to risk getting in serious trouble to get it. That's why laws against rape haven't stopped rape, and why laws against prostitution haven't stopped prostitution, and why men who cheat on their wives would continue to cheat even if it was illegal, and why gay men continue to be gay even in fundamentalist religious countries like Saudi Arabia, where homosexuality is punishable by death.”

“But when they got to the room...he thought how stupid it was not to realize what it would be like: the sprung, creaky bed, sheets that hadn't been changed from the time before, and the woman herself as she undressed and the clothes came away like the store wrapping on an uncooked chicken, a large piece of meat sitting down on the bed and nothing to do with him.”

“PROSTITUTION – AN ACT OF SEX (A POEM) BY E.T.H…AINA Hey young girl, Why do you want sex often and often? Oh! Dogs ate your placenta! And now your clitoris is always itchy. Hey little bro, why is your penis always nodding Like a read headed agama lizard? And you always want to insert it somewhere. Lemme open your eyes to some things. Girlie, to you, prostitution is just a practice Of engaging in sexual relations for payment or benefits. Hear this, prostitution is sexual harassment, Sexual exploitation, often worse. You become in your mind what your client does or says. It is internally damaging and disgraceful as he uses you to learn various sex patterns What he can’t do with the girl he truly loves. From Backstairs Boogy to Deep Impact, from the Head Game to Arc de Triomp And from Ladder Loving to the Pinwheel, from Electric Slide to Passion Propeller He uses you like a public convenience – a toilet After all, he pays for your ungodly service. After being used as a sex-slave, You’ll still suffer spiritually – what a pity. Girl, remember when the act of sex takes place, There is a spiritual union. Brotherly, hear this, he that has sex with a prostitute Becomes one body with her. He leaves a part of his DNA in her. Something a condom can’t protect you against. Back to you, young girl. You think sex is just pleasurable You moan – f**k me hard, give it to me, Baby Oh, I’m enjoying it. Oh, I’ve almost reached orgasm Then you cum and he cums – loba’tan! You think it’s over, right? You may not know – but he might be using you to enhance his wealth And your insufficient glory is depleting. Bro, you have done it, ten rounds. Champion! But what has gone out of you If only you have a spiritual eye – then you will be sober. Your sperm has been saved inside a black and red ritual calabash She will use it to boost her fame. Bro, it is finished! Wait, you think it is over, right? What if you contract diseases – chlamydia, HIV and AIDS If things fall apart, you tend to suffer on earth And fire will burn you in heaven. Na me talk ham – so, think ham oooo Copyright @2019 E.T.H…AINA All right reserved: no part of the publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any forms or by any means, electronically, photocopy, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the poet -E.T.H…AINA ([email protected])/+2348184171204”