The suppression of inner patterns in favor of patterns created by society is dangerous to us.
I cheat him, I deceive him, yet the world does not sink in sulphur-colored mists. Madness conquers. I can no longer put my mosaics together. I just cry and laugh.
Nowhere is inhumanity more revealed than in hospitals.
We sit on the kitchen exchanging these diabolical outgrowths of overfertile minds.
I walk ahead of myself in perpetual expectancy of miracles.
We celebrate peace. Yet we pay no attention to the ways of curing aggression in human beings. And when one sees in psychoanalysis hostility disappearing as people conquer their fears, one wonders if the cure is not there.