I am also really into religious artifacts.
Our unconscious, then, does not believe in its own death; it behaves as if it were immortal. It knows nothing that is negative; in it contradictories coincide. This may be the secret of heroism.
Unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive and will come forth later in uglier ways.
Human beings are funny. They long to be with the person they love but refuse to admit openly. Some are afraid to show even the slightest sign of affection because of fear. Fear that their feelings may not be recognized, or even worst, returned. But one thing about human beings puzzles me the most is their conscious effort to be connected with the object of their affection even if it kills them slowly within.
We choose not randomly each other. We meet only those who already exists in our subconscious.
The aim of psychoanalysis is to relieve people of their neurotic unhappiness so that they can be normally unhappy.
One day, in retrospect, the years of struggle will strike you as the most beautiful.
Millions of people toil in the shadow of the law we make, and much of their livelihood is made possible by the existence of intellectual property rights.
At the end of my trial, I was rather hoping the judge would send me to Australia for the rest of my life.
In the poorest of the poor we see Jesus in distressed guise.
My political opinions lean more and more to anarchy. The most improper job of any man, even saints, is bossing other men. There is only one bright spot and that is the growing habit of disgruntled men of dynamiting factories and power stations. I hope that, encouraged now as patriotism, may remain a habit.