Psychoanalysis--quotes to provoke and inspire
If you be sick, your own thoughts make you sick. [Ben Jonson, 1598]
What a curious creature is man! With what a variety of powers and faculties is he endued! Yet how easily is he disturbed and put out of order! [James Boswell, 1763]
Oh the nerves, the nerves; the mysteries of this machine called man! Oh the little that unhinges it: poor creatures that we are! [Charles Dickens, 1844]
The bow too tensely strung is easily broken. [Publilius Syrus, 1st century BC]
Everybody in the world has the sensation of being tied down hand and foot -- Everyone has his own private bloodsucker. [Ugo Betti, 1953]
[Will Ladislaw] was conscious of being irritated by ridiculously small causes, which were half of his own creation. Why was he making any fuss about Mrs. Casaubon? And yet he felt as if something had happened to him with regard to her. There are characters which are continually creating collisions and nodes for themselves in dramas which nobody is prepared to act with them. Their susceptibilities will clash against objects that remain innocently quiet. [George Eliot, Middlemarch, Book II, Chapter 19, 1871-1872]
As every man is hunted by his own daemon, vexed by his own disease, this checks all his activity. [Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1860]
Psychiatry's chief contribution to philosophy is the discovery that the toilet is the seat of the soul. [Alexander Chase, 1966]
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, raze out the written troubles of the brain, and with some sweet oblivious antidote, cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff which weighs upon the heart? [Shakespeare, Macbeth]
Do you not know, Prometheus, that words are healers of the sick temper? [Aeschylus, c. 478 BC]
Once read thy own breast right, and thou hast done with fears. [Matthew Arnold, 1852]
The greatest happiness is to know the source of unhappiness. [Dostoevski, 1876]
All cases are unique, and very similar to others. [T. S. Eliot, 1949]
To have known how to change the past into a few saddened smiles -- is this not to master the future? [Maurice Maeterlinck, 1896]
All the art of analysis consists in saying a truth only when the other person is ready for it, has been prepared for it by an organic process of gradation and evolution. [Anais Nin, 1932]
Every life is, more or less, a ruin among whose debris we have to discover what the person ought to have been. [Jose Ortega y Gasset, 1949]
Man is tied to the weight of his own past, and even by a great therapeutic labor little more can be accomplished than a shifting of the burden. [Philip Rieff, 1959]
To understand oneself is the classic form of consolation; to elude oneself is the romantic. [George Santayana, 1913]
Let us not seek our disease out of ourselves; 'tis in us, and planted in our bowels; and the mere fact that we do not perceive ourselves to be sick, renders us more hard to be cured. [Seneca, 1st century AD]
It might be said of psychoanalysis that if you give it your little finger it will soon have your whole hand. [Sigmund Freud, 1917]
Look into the depths of your own soul and learn first to know yourself, then you will understand why this illness was bound to come upon you and perhaps you will thenceforth avoid falling ill. [Sigmund Freud, 1924]
All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts . . . [William Shakespeare, As you like it, II, vii, 139]
Our revels now are ended. These our actors, as I foretold you, were all spirits and are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, the cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples, the great globe itself, yea, all which it inherit, shall disolve and, like this insubstantial pageant faded, leave not a rack behind. We are such things as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep. [William Shakespeare, The tempest, IV, i, 148]
So, if I dream I have you, I have you. For, all our joys are but fantastical. [John Donne, Elegies, No. 10, "The dream"]