Best 3064 quotes in «psychology quotes» category

She couldn’t explain it except with the word: there. She was there. Present in herself. She wasn’t always, so it was worth remarking upon.

She captured the spot of my world’s centre and sent me in elliptic rings about it, causing the ground beneath me to vanish and the breath of my lungs to disperse. I was a rock locked in helpless orbit.

She didn't realize she was in a prison until she collided with the bars.

She had come to analysis because she was, as she put it, “ruining her children.” ... “But you are so frustrating,” she said. “I want you to take something away from me, and you keep giving it back.” And what, I asked, was that “something” she wanted to give away? “The pain. The crazy,” she said. She said there was a little shrine, somewhere in the north of Brazil. The land was dry, the town impossibly poor, but people would travel for hundreds of miles to get there, to leave candles, gifts, and ex- voto offerings thanking the saint for answered prayers, for healing, for having rescued them from distress. “I bring you my worries. I bring you my tears. I bring you the dreams I have. I want to leave them here. I want to hang them on your wall and return home healed. But everything I give to you, you give back. You say, like you just said, ‘What is this “something” you want to give away?’ ” Years later I looked it up, the shrine. There were many like the one my Brazilian patient had described. One of them was a kind of cave or grotto, where pilgrims would leave little body parts carved from wood or wax: a foot, a breast, a head. From time to time the priest collected the wax objects and melted them down, making candles to be sold to other pilgrims. The walls and ceiling of the shrine were black with candle smoke and crowded with these suspended offerings. I think now that my Brazilian patient managed at least to give that away, the conjured image of a blackened shrine, hung with a jumble of body parts. I think that in the soul of each psychoanalyst such a place must exist, in spite of what we profess about our neutrality, our professional detachment. Perhaps something of what we receive can be melted down and sold back as candlelight— our costly illuminations— but other elements remain just as they appeared, the dreams nailed to the walls, the abandoned hearts and limbs, the soot of inextinguishable longing.

She's a miracle.

She realized, when relationships failed to last, it was not because love was no longer present, but because people had stopped believing in themselves and in their partners.

She spoke to him of her problems, and that made him forget his own. She told him that he was intelligent, thoughtful, becoming, and deeply magnetic - everything he wanted so badly for her to see in him. Attention is the greatest gift when you're too afraid to pay it to yourself, the wind ruminates.

Shetani ni profesa wa saikolojia! Lakini, ukiwa msiri, hatakupata.

She wanted to talk about it, to tell the peasants in the fields and the nobles in their palashos—the cows in the pastures, the very birds in the air— that everything was nothing. It was a delightful thought because it meant (to Tess) that one was free to choose, or decline to choose, without shame or coercion. For someone who was nothing, anything was possible.

She was born under the sign of Gemini. And that stands for the good and evil twin. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde both hiding and residing inside her heart. Her good twin was not bad at all. But her evil twin was even better, and showed up to be way too fatal!

She was like a landscape you see from the train, and you want to stop just there.

She was the river, and the river had nothing to be ashamed of.

She was the keeper of my smile and my laugh. She who housed my hopes, my dreams, my spirit. She was the center of my being, the bane of my existence, she was my be-all and end-all.

She will tell you how I feel for you.

Show a man too many camels' bones, or show them to him too often, and he will not be able to recognize a camel when he comes across a live one. (Mirza Ahsan of Tabriz)

Should you operate upon your clients as objects, you risk reducing them to less than human. Following the culture of appropriation and mastery your clients become a kind of extension of yourself, of your ego. In the appropriation and objectification mode, your clients’ well-being and success in treatment reflect well upon you. You “did” something to them, you made them well. You acted upon them and can take the credit for successful therapy or treatment. Conversely, if your clients flounder or regress, that reflects poorly on you. On this side of things the culture of appropriation and mastery says that you are not doing enough. You are not exerting enough influence, technique or therapeutic force. What anxiety this can breed for some clinicians! DBT offers a framework and tools for a treatment that allows clients to retain their full humanity. Through the practice of mindfulness, you can learn to cultivate a fuller presence to the moments of your life, and even with your clients and your work with them. This presence potentiates an encounter between two irreducible human beings, meeting professionally, of course, and meeting humanly. The dialectical framework, which embraces contradictions and gives you a way of seeing that life is pregnant with creative tensions, allows for your discovery of your limits and possibilities, gives you a way of seeing the dynamic nature of reality that is anything but sitting still; shows you that your identity grows from relationship with others, including those you help, that you are an irreducible human being encountering other irreducible human beings who exert influence upon you, even as you exert your own upon them. Even without clinical contrivance.

Should' assumes that when either willingness or ability is lacking, it may be compensated for by an abundance of the other. This is simply not realistic.

Show a man too many camels' bones,or show them to him too often,and he will not be able to recognize a camel when he comes across a live one.

Show me a culture where honesty is considered ridiculous, where nobody's ever accountable for anything, where anger gets admired as a sign of strength, and I'll show you a place where misery is permanent

Shyness is just egoism out of its depth.

Sickness is the motivator for research by those that recognize improved health is just a discovery away.

Sick people are among the most profitable items in the corporate world.

Sickness and disease have been turned into corporate profit centers.

Significant changes in the psychological atmosphere accompanied the economic development of capitalism. A spirit of restlessness began to pervade life toward the end of the Middle Ages. The concept of time in the modern sense began to develop. Minutes became valuable [...]. Too many holidays began to appear as a misfortune. Time was so valuable that on felt one should never spend it for any purpose which was not useful. Work became increasingly a supreme value.

Silence is nice to have if you wanted it, but maddening if you didn't.

Simple problems beget simple solutions.

Sincerity is one of the worst qualities to feign. It's a characteristic that continues to test the person who portrayed the quality until the truth reveals itself.

Simon Stiegler, Literatur, Belletristik, Crime, Psychology, Philosophy, Art, children, Adult, books, author,Autor

Smart people video record their interactions with police officers.

Siz, kendiniz olmak istiyorsunuz. Bunu bana kaç kere söylediğinizi duydum! Kaç kere özgürlüğü hiç tanımadığınızdan yakındınız. Sizin iyiliğiniz, ödeviniz, sadakatiniz; bunlar sizi hapseden duvarlar. Bu küçük erdemler sizi yok edecekler. Kendi kötülüğünüzü tanımak zorundasınız. Kısmen özgür olunamaz: İçgüdüleriniz, özgürlük özleminiz; odada kapalı tutulan vahşi köpekleriniz; hepsi de özgürleşmek için feryat ediyorlar. İyi dinleyin, hâlâ duyamıyor musunuz onları?

Smart people avoid smart meters.

Social media is based on a simple economy: Outgoing attention is the labor that social media requires of its proletariat; incoming attention is the wage it pays them. The group dynamics in this economy of little Willy Lomans all but ensure that the majority of the ordinary person’s social-media interactions are with like-minded people and that these groups of like-minded people self-radicalize in the way most like-minded groups do, a pattern that has long been familiar to scholars of deliberation and group psychology.

Social media allows us to subjugate feelings and problems we don't want to confront, like emotional eating or substance abuse, thus perpetuating our problems and delaying our happiness.

So, around age 31, I finally began to connect the dots, I think. The reasons for why women so often act in fucked up, selfish, whorish, hypocritical ways must be the same reasons for why my grandmother loves me unconditionally, and why after years of unemployment my mother still won’t kick me out of her house. It doesn’t make any fucking sense to a rational person (usually a man), but if you do look at the two sides of it… it sort of makes sense… even though it doesn’t… I guess.

Society has a herd psychology, so until we have more good shepherds we are lost.

So eine Depression ist ein beschissener Mitbewohner mit seperatem Mietvertrag. Den bekommst du nicht raus.

So if you ask the question “What kinds of perceptions and thoughts and feelings guide us through life each day?” the answer, at the most basic level, isn’t “The kinds of thoughts and feelings and perceptions that give us an accurate picture of reality.” No, at the most basic level the answer is “The kinds of thoughts and feelings and perceptions that helped our ancestors get genes into the next generation.” Whether those thoughts and feelings and perceptions give us a true view of reality is, strictly speaking, beside the point. As a result, they sometimes don’t. Our brains are designed to, among other things, delude us.

So I was just thinking about how something happened today and it was quite insightful, humbling and puts things into perspective. If you look at anything, everything has it's 'story' so to speak. For instance, for me to even write this status requires an obscene amount of processes (essentially limitless). Just the biological processes that have to take place are in the trillions. Then you add the technological component, the psychology behind it(self-awareness/consciousness). Then you start looking at the macro factors behind it which include how I came into existence, how life came to be for that to occur, how earth came to be, the sun, the solar system, the galaxy, universe...etc. So the odds for all those things to occur for me to write a simple (or not so simply) status like this....is pretty fucking incredible to say the least.

Solitary walks are great for getting new ideas. It's like you're in a video game and you pick up idea coins on the way.

Solitude, the joy of being alone, stems from, as well as promotes, a state of maturity and inner richness.

So long as you’re still worried about what others think of you, you are owned by them. Only when you require no approval from outside yourself can you own yourself.

Society reproduces itself antagonistically.

Society has misconstrued romantic love and has certainly misunderstood love in general. What we believe to be romantic love is actually attachment, lust, and fear (of loss). Society preaches passion as a function of romantic love, and passion CAN be a function of love, but it functions where one demonstrates heroism, selflessness and sacrifice to benefit the life of another. It has nothing to do with touch nor sexual desire. Love is everything. Life teeters on the spectrum of love and fear. Love is multidimensional, beyond the experience of mere emotion. Love is a hand extended to the shoulder of a distressed stranger, the smile of a child, it's the gratitude towards something beyond ourselves when circumstance benefits us. Anybody who has told you that you need another being to supplement your experience of love has misguided you. To live meaningfully is to celebrate love everyday.

So. I see where you're going—bus number 27 to a crossroads near Delphi. Look, I did not want, at any point, on any level, to kill my own father and sleep with my own mother. It's true that I wanted to sleep with Susan—and did so many times—and for a number of years thought of killing Gordon Macleod, but that is another part of the story. Not to put too fine a point on it, I think the Oedipus myth is precisely what it started off as: melodrama rather than psychology. In all my years of life I've never met anyone to whom it might apply. You think I'm being naive? You wish to point out that human motivation is deviously buried, and hides its mysterious workings from those who blindly submit to it? Perhaps so. But even—especially—Oedipus didn't want to kill his father and sleep with his mother, did he? Oh yes he did! Oh no he didn't! Yes, let's just leave it as a pantomime exchange.

Some alters are what Dr Ross describes in Multiple Personality Disorder as 'fragments'. which are 'relatively limited psychic states that express only one feeling, hold one memory, or carry out a limited task in the person's life. A fragment might be a frightened child who holds the memory of one particular abuse incident.' In complex multiples, Dr Ross continues, the 'personalities are relatively full-bodied, complete states capable of a range of emotions and behaviours.' The alters will have 'executive control some substantial amount of time over the person's life'. He stresses, and I repeat his emphasis, 'Complex MPD with over 15 alter personalities and complicated amnesia barriers are associated with 100 percent frequency of childhood physical, sexual and emotional abuse.' Did I imagine the castle, the dungeon, the ritual orgies and violations? Did Lucy, Billy, Samuel, Eliza, Shirley and Kato make it all up? I went back to the industrial estate and found the castle. It was an old factory that had burned to the ground, but the charred ruins of the basement remained. I closed my eyes and could see the black candles, the dancing shadows, the inverted pentagram, the people chanting through hooded robes. I could see myself among other children being abused in ways that defy imagination. I have no doubt now that the cult of devil worshippers was nothing more than a ring of paedophiles, the satanic paraphernalia a cover for their true lusts: the innocent bodies of young children.

Some expectation are inevitable but the problem happens when we are not able to measure the likelihood of reciprocation or fulfillment. We fail as measuring instruments, and so we drag & impose our expectations and ourselves along.

Some of the games that you can't win weren't meant to be played.

Some memories battened onto a person’s mind like evil leeches, and certain words—stupid and ridiculous, for example—could bring them instantly back to squirming, feverish life.

Someone needs to put a muzzle on President Trump sooner rather than later.

Some people can see art in everything.