Every little act that goes against the feeble voice of goodness, truth and justice within yourself injures your heart, deforms it, and makes it ugly.
That ugliness builds up over time as you continue to decline. Every betrayal, every act of cowardice, every little meanness, every little taking of something that doesn't belong to you, every act of violence towards something beautiful, adds to a certain stench within your soul.
(The Picture of Dorian Gray)
You may think that throwing that banana peel in front of someone's home at night, or watching a lurid video on your phone, or stealing from your room partner, is without consequence. It may be without any external consequence. But if there is something of value within you, that act will make you poorer, and in the end, such acts will bankrupt you.
The inner costs, the scars rather, of acts that impinge upon your conscience or which are at odds with the light of life within you, are usually, perhaps always, more than the tangible benefit such acts may yield. And if you disagree, perhaps you are already without a conscience that can be scarrred, and that is a deathly existence that can only be pitied.
You may chew on some chicken thigh and sip some Chivas Regal as you regale your friends with your vulgar account of how you cheated a poor and old man who came to you for help, but neither the flavor of the food nor the aroma of the scotch will mask the odor of your skin that will revolt any child.
This punishment is not sufficient, I believe. Killers and rapists have lived long lives while their victims perished in obscurity, but the punishment is there. It is not justice, but it is also not an absence of it.
