Hysteria (n.) is the living proof that language carves the body along lines anatomy knows nothing of.
Hysteria (n.) is cured by satisfying a desire whose whole aim is to remain unsatisfied.
Hysteria (n.) in men asks the same question as in women: what is the feminine position?
Hysteria (n.) follows an imaginary anatomy: no hysterical paralysis keeps to the paths of the nerves.
Hysteria (n.) in a woman asks one question through all its symptoms: what is it to be a woman?
Hysteria (n.) asks one question: how can another woman be loved by a man who cannot be satisfied by her?
Hysteria (n.) in revealing the past presents the birth of truth in speech — and brings us up against what is neither true nor false.
Hysteria (n.) makes "acting out" literal: the hysteric acts outside himself, his ego lodged in the third party through whom he enjoys the object.
Hysteria (n.) is the desire for an unsatisfied desire — the butcher's wife who craves caviar and insists her husband not give it to her.
Hysteria (n.) can be a question asked with the body: a tram conductor's crises, set off by X-ray machines, were his way of asking 'am I capable of procreating?'
Hysteria (n.) is the subject's questioning of its symbolic title: "Why am I what you're saying that I am?" — or, as Juliet put it, "Why am I that name?"
Hysteria (n.) for Aristotle was a little animal — the uterus — roaming the woman's body when not fed; but he never thought it would help to have conversations with it.
Hysteria (n.) in Dora is a perpetual see-saw: she cannot tell whether she loves only herself, her image magnified in Frau K., or desires Frau K. — and because the swing never stops, she can't get out.
Hysteria (n.) shows in an attack that is not a discharge but an action, a means of reproducing pleasure — everything focused on the prehistoric, unforgettable Other that later no one will ever reach.