The unconscious is the discourse of the Other.

What does it matter how many lovers you have if none of them gives you the universe?

We emphasize that such a form of communication is not absent in man, however evanescent a naturally given object may be for him, split as it is in its submission to symbols.

Symptoms, those you believe you recognize, seem to you irrational because you take them in an isolated manner, and you want to interpret them directly.

Aside from that reservation, a fictive tale even has the advantage of manifesting symbolic necessity more purely to the extent that we may believe its conception arbitrary.

The unconscious is structured like a language.

Writings scatter to the winds blank checks in an insane charge. And were they not such flying leaves, there would be no purloined letters.