Woman ... what does she want?
Sigmund Freud
Born: May 6, 1856 Died: September 23, 1939
Sigmund Freud ([ˈziːgmʊnt ˈfrɔʏ̯t]; 6 May 1856 – 23 September 1939) was an Austrian neurologist and psychiatrist and the founder of the psychoanalytic school of psychology. He was the father of Anna Freud, the grandfather of Sir Clement Freud and Lucian Freud, and the uncle of Edward Bernays.
Biographical information from: Wikiquote
When a love-relationship is at its height there is no room left for any interest in the environment; a pair of lovers are sufficient to themselves
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I do not in the least underestimate bisexuality. . . I expect it to provide all further enlightenment.
Man has, as it were, become a kind of prosthetic God.
My love is something valuable to me which I ought not to throw away without reflection.
What is common in all these dreams is obvious. They completely satisfy wishes excited during the day which remain unrealized. They are simply and undisguisedly realizations of wishes.
Woe to you, my Princess, when I come. I will kiss you quite red and feed you till you are plump. And if you are forward, you shall see who is the stronger, a gentle little girl who doesn't eat enough, or a big wild man who has cocaine in his body. — A love letter from Freud to his fiancée.
We may insist as often as we like that man's intellect is powerless in comparison to his instinctual life, and we may be right in this. Nevertheless, there is something peculiar about this weakness. The voice of the intellect is a soft one, but it will not rest until it has gained a hearing. Finally, after a countless succession of rebuffs, it succeeds.
Every man has a right over his own life and war destroys lives that were full of promise; it forces the individual into situations that shame his manhood, obliging him to murder fellow men, against his will.”
Sigmund Freud wrote to Albert Einstein
Our possibilities of happiness are already restricted by our constitution. Unhappiness is much less difficult to experience. We are threatened with suffering from three directions: from our own body, which is doomed to decay and dissolution and which cannot even do without pain and anxiety as warning signals; from the external world, which may rage against us with overwhelming and merciless forces of destruction; and finally from our relations to other men. The suffering which comes from this last source is perhaps more painful to us than any other.
It is impossible to overlook the extent to which civilization is built up upon a renunciation of instinct....
Time spent with cats is never wasted.
Dreams are never concerned with trivia.
Anatomy is destiny.
Neurosis is no excuse for bad manners.