i address myself not only to the young enthusiast: 
the ardent devotee of truth and virtue; the pure and passionate moralist, 
yet unvitiated by the contagion of the world. 
he will embrace a pure system, from its abstract truth, its beauty, its simplicity, 
and its promise of wide-extended benefit; 
unless custom has turned poison into food, he will hate the brutal pleasures of the chance 
by instinct; it will be a contemplation full of horror and disappointment to his mind, 
that beings capable of the gentlest and most admirable sympathies, should take delight 
in the death-pangs and last convulsions of dying animals… how much longer will man continue to pimp for the gluttony of death, his most insidious, implacable, and eternal foe?


honey boy aka p.b. shelley