Word: sigmund
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
Otten resembles one's image of the middle-aged Sigmund Freud; he is given to slouching pensively and there are large bags below his usually down-cast eyes. His beard, which he said dates from before Cambridge, finishes off the portrait...
...Even Sigmund Freud often relived botany, zoology and chemistry finals in his sleep. But in The Interpretation of Dreams, he noted a comforting aspect of the nagging nightmares: they seem to be experienced only by people who pass their exams, never by those who fail. If Freud was right, one consolation for college students who flunk today is that they will be spared recurring dreams of their failure tomorrow...
...Life and Times of Joseph Stalin is undeniably opaque, irritating, pretentious and self-indulgent. Few playwrights would have the nerve to stitch together a dramatic conglomerate as Wilson has done, containing portions of his previous works such as The King of Spain, The Life and Times of Sigmund Freud and Deafman Glance. But considering its sprawling length, Stalin is remarkably free from boredom. This is a token of its visual mesmerism and incessant variety. One moment the stern, noble mien of the aged Sigmund Freud will appear as he walks about the stage on his wife...
Right Schools. Molloy, who fancies himself the Sigmund Freud of wardrobe psychology, attributes the change directly to Watergate. "I can't think of another factor," he says. "America is losing faith in its leaders." And in its leaders' haberdashery. The more conservative the costume, by his reasoning, the shadier the image. Perhaps the guiltiest of the White House straight men-before the sartorial bar anyway-is Spiro Agnew. "Every hair is in place on that man," complains Molloy. "He always buttons his buttons." Hence the impression is one of strained perfectionism. H.R. ("Bob") Haldeman, with his neatly mowed...
That settles Rousseau's hash. Goldfein is no kinder to Freud. The great alienist, he imagines, met his rival Jung one day while strolling in Vienna. Freud felt faint, swooned, and sat down in the dust. Jung, much concerned, offered analysis: "We clear the air, eh, Sigmund? Ah yes, your passing out was a good thing. Hysterical. Yes. Hysteria neurosis. But a good thing." Freud blamed the fall on slippery leaves. " 'You passed out!' Carl insisted. 'Admit it. I know a shlip when I see one ... believe me, it was a healthy thing.' " Freud, much...