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Quote by Eric Berne

“A variant of "Psychiatry" is "Archaeology" (title by courtesy of Dr. Norman Reider of San Francisco), in which the patient takes the position that if she can only find out who had the button, so to speak, everything will suddenly be all right. This results in a continual rumination over childhood happenings.”

Quote by Eric Berne

Work

GAMES PEOPLE PLAY

This book delves into the various games that individuals play in social situations, analyzing the underlying motivations and strategies that drive human behavior. more

Author

Eric Berne
Eric Berne

Eric Berne was a renowned psychologist and author, known for his profound insights into psychodrama and human relationships. His work has had a significant impact on the fields of modern psychology and interpersonal relationships. more

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“A fast but skillful driver, Peter guided his Jaguar onto the M6 Highway, then accelerated to a dizzying speed. Thank goodness she'd seen something of the scenery on her way to Scotland, Toni reflected, as the landscape passed in a blur of greens and blues and tans. She managed to stay alert until they passed York, at which point her eyelids refused to stay open. She felt her body sinking lower and lower into the leather upholstery until finally she could fight the drowsiness no longer.”

“She slid into the warm, scented water, wryly accepting Zulema's assistance and bending her head obediently as her hair was carefully wetted and then shampooed. Cocooned in towels, she emerged again and sat down to have her hair combed out and her nails painted. Why all the fuss? She wondered. 'You look tired, sitt. Lie down and rest for a while,' Zulema urged. 'The party will last for hours.' Party? So someone was throwing a party. Her curiosity satisfied, Bethany smiled and lay down. She could hear a helicopter.”

“-No me acuerdo, ¿Cómo cabe recordar lo que uno ha sido en el pasado? Quizá fuera una ostra, o un pájaro, o quizá profesor de matemáticas... De todos modos nuestra anterior vida en Rusia parece algo que hubiera ocurrido antes del principio de los tiempos, algo metafísico, o como quiera usted llamarlo. No, metafísico no es la palabra adecuada... Sí, ahora sé de qué se trata. Es como una metempsicosis.”

“Séraphine." The whisper in her dreams and Bridget whimpered and tried to bat it away. She needn't wake yet. It wasn't time to rise. She had hours still. A soft chuckle and the brush of something soft on her cheek. "I would never have guessed you were such a deep sleeper, my practical housekeeper." She had a terrible foreboding, an awful suspicion, even in her dreams, and she fought valiantly through the sluggish waves. Bridget opened her eyes, blinking, in the candlelight, to find azure eyes only inches from her own. They crinkled at the corners. "There you are.”

“She flew in, all fiery flashing eyes and flushed cheeks, her bosom heaving beneath black wool. She was magnificent. "Tell them to let her go!" Séraphine ordered him imperiously. "Tell them to let her go right now." She stood over him, her lips wet, her body shaking with her rage, and he wanted to take her and roll her beneath him and fuck her into the mattress.”

“He met Caire's eyes. "I hope we can finish this soon. I left your sister in my bed." St. John swore under his breath and stepped between them, facing Val. "Are you insane?" "Many think so,." Val was watching Caire, his lips twitching. Caire hadn't moved. Only his eyes, hard and staring and trained upon Val, showed that he'd heard Val's words. Those eyes burned a bit like Séraphine's, Val mused, and he wondered if the other man truly meant to kill him this morning. Well, he would certainly try.”

“Why then was he taking her? Was it merely for his own amusement- or was it for some other, more sinister reason? After all, only two days before she'd seen him kill a footman in cold blood. Of course Cal had tried to kill the duke in a particularly awful and vicious way. But then afterward the duke had kissed her as she'd never been kissed in all her life. His tongue had tasted of wine and sin and she'd wanted to moan and rub herself against him as he'd tilted her back over his arm.”

“Val set Séraphine before the roaring fire, but kept his hands on her because he'd learned his lesson well... and also because he liked his hands on her. She glanced at the steaming bath and suppressed another shiver. "I should leave if you're about to take a bath." "Why?" he asked as he slipped his sadly ruined purple velvet coat from her shoulders. It had cost more than she'd probably make in a lifetime and now stank of bacon and horses, thanks to her. He threw the sodden thing in the corner. "You'll want your privacy," she replied nonsensically. He looked into her dark eyes, amused, as he unhooked her chatelaine and laid it on a table. "When have I ever wanted privacy?”