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Quote by Richard von Krafft-Ebing

Work

Psychopathia Sexualis: A Medico-Legal Study

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Author

Richard von Krafft-Ebing
Richard von Krafft-Ebing

Richard von Krafft-Ebing was a German psychiatrist born on August 14, 1840, and died on December 22, 1902. He made significant contributions to the fields of psychiatry and sexology, particularly for his classification studies on homosexuality and sexual perversions. more

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“I read, I daydreamed, I wandered the city so ardently in part because it was a means of wandering in my thoughts, and my thoughts were runaways, constantly taking me away in the midst of the conversation, the meal, the class, the work, the play, the dance, the party. They were a place I wanted to be, thinking, musing, analyzing, imagining, hoping, tracing connections, integrating new ideas, but they grabbed me and ran with me from the situations at hand over and over. I disappeared in the middle of conversations, sometimes because I was bored but just as often because someone said something so interesting that my mind chased after the idea they offered and lost track of the rest of what they said. I lived in a long reverie for years, went days without much interruption to it, which was one of the gifts of solitude.”

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“New prisoners are largely of two kinds -- there are those who for shame, fear or shock wait in fascinated horror to be initiated into the lore of prison life, and there are those who trade on their wretched novelty in order to endear themselves to the community. Leamas did neither of these things. He seemed pleased to despise them all, and they hated him because, like the world outside, he did not need them.”

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“ကိုယ့်အတ္တနဲ့ကိုယ် တစ်ကိုယ်ကောင်းဆန်ပစ်လိုက်ရတဲ့ သူစိမ်းတစ်ယောက်ရဲ့ နေထိုင်မှုပုံဆံလိုမျိုးပေါ့။ အဝေးဆုံးကို ထွက်သွားခွင့်မရှိတဲ့ သူတစ်ယောက်မို့ အားလုံးရဲ့ အနီးနားမှာပဲ ကိုယ်ဟာ ပျောက်ကွယ်သွားအောင် တိတ်ဆိတ်နေခဲ့လိုက်တာ။”

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“Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rage at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

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Book:Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
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