§ 129
His sexual instinct is most likely to be assigned to some mysterious power. But it is no more mysterious than his heartbeat and no more miraculous than the growth of his beard or finger nail. In spite of the fact that he has not given them much thought, his sex instincts are as much a part of him as any tissue of his body.
The same principle applies to the praise or blame attached by others to the acts which his sexual instincts prompt him to do. If he kiss a strange girl in an environment where strange girls are kissed by everyone, his act is not blamed. So it is his own act and not inspired by some unholy power (unless indeed he has to explain to someone how he happened to be in that environment, or he would have to blame that on his instinct).
If his amativeness shows itself in any place where that form of self-expression is frowned upon, he will be mentally preparing excuses, even if he does not have to use them, and he will simply say he was forced by his irresistible impulse to do that very thing.
If his environment consisted at the time of one woman whose unconscious passion was already directed toward him, she might call upon him for an explanation which of course she wouldn’t really care about, but any sort of explanation logical or not would suffice, because the demand was only conventional.
He takes the praise for what is conventionally praised in his actions. He shifts the blame to anything not himself. Also he takes the praise, if any is accorded, to anything that has cost him much effort. He leaves, or dodges, the blame. So the two ideas according to which he reacts to praise or blame are the idea of whether the actions praised or blamed are his, the result of his conscious effort, and the idea of whether or not the actions or their results are pleasant.