This, then, is what we term Venus. This is the orgin of the thing called love - that drop of Venus’ honey that first drips into our heart, to be followed by icy heartache. Though the object of your love may be absent, images of it still haunt you and the beloved name rings sweetly in your ears. If you find yourself thus passionately enamoured of an individual, you should keep well away from such images. Thrust from you anything that might feed your passion, and turn your mind elsewhere. Ejaculate the build-up of seed promiscuously and do not hold on to it - by clinging to it you assure yourself the certainty of heartsickness and pain.

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