Fantasy's (n.) motive force is in every single instance the fulfillment of a wish, a correction of unsatisfying reality.
Fantasy (n.) can serve unaltered to represent both of two opposing alternatives — the fear and the wish to be rid of it.
Fantasy (n.) stands to the childhood memories it is made of as the Baroque palaces of Rome stand to the ancient ruins whose columns they plundered.
An Fantasy (n.) shows in a dream as the stretch that is more fluent, more connected and more fleeting than the rest — never quite pinned down.
Fantasy (n.) stored ready-made for years explains Maury's guillotine dream: it was not composed in the instant the board struck his neck but merely 'alluded to' by the blow.
Fantasy (n.) disguises one's childhood as legends disguise every nation's forgotten prehistory.
Fantasy (n.) is a nature reserve of the mind: where reality has reshaped everything, it keeps the original wilderness, the useless and even the noxious growing as they please.
A Fantasy (n.) dismissed as unimportant only aids repression: unless it is made fully conscious the patient cannot command the interest attached to it.
Fantasy (n.) can only be built from material acquired from some source, and a small child's sources are few and easily searched.
Fantasy (n.) can be highly organized and free of contradiction — and still be barred from consciousness, its origin deciding its fate.
Fantasy (n.) is the mark of the unsatisfied: a happy person never phantasies.
Fantasy (n.) becomes a danger when over-luxuriant and over-powerful, setting the conditions for neurosis or psychosis and preceding patients' symptoms.
Fantasy (n.) is the part of thought that was exempted when reality took over, left to obey the pleasure principle alone.
Fantasy (n.) is the mind's nature reserve, a stretch of wild land a nation keeps untouched amid its farms and roads.
Fantasy (n.) is the halfway region between living by pleasure and living by reality.
A Fantasy (n.) that once accompanied masturbation goes underground when the habit is given up, and may return as a symptom.
A Fantasy (n.) that seems capricious is an echo of a forgotten childhood impression, determined without the dreamer's knowledge.
A Fantasy (n.) built in puberty sits between childhood impressions and adult symptoms, an imaginary memory interposed.
Fantasy (n.) and memory were something Freud could not yet tell apart in the 1890s, which led him to overrate seduction until he saw children's own sexuality.
A Fantasy (n.) can slip back into a childhood scene only if a real memory-trace meets it halfway.