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

As is known, it is in the realm of experience inaugurated by psychoanalysis that we may grasp along what imaginary lines the human organism, in the most intimate recesses of its being, manifests its capture in a symbolic dimension.

The only thing of which one can be guilty is of having given ground relative to one's desire.

The narration, in fact, doubles the drama with a commentary without which no mise en scene would be possible.

If psychoanalysis clarifies some facts of sexuality, it is not by aiming at them in their own reality, not in biological experience.

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.

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