The Mind (n.) is like an iceberg, it floats with one-seventh of its bulk above water.
Mind (n.) is not to be denied merely because at the moment we cannot see beyond the mental.
Mind (n.) works with more delicacy for being divided into two agencies than it could with only one.
Mind (n.) is the most marvellous and most mysterious of all instruments.
Mind (n.) extends beyond consciousness as a star's gravity extends beyond its light.
Mind (n.) is a crocodile among mammals: the primitive survives alongside what grew out of it.
Mind (n.) is a Rome where every temple ever built still stands on the same ground at once — Nero's Golden House alongside the Coliseum.
Mind (n.) has advanced since earliest times after all: its one sure progress is that outer coercion gradually becomes inner command.
Mind (n.) is first and foremost a device for mastering excitations that would otherwise hurt — working them over drains away what cannot be discharged outward.
Mind (n.) develops unlike a village growing into a town: every earlier stage persists alongside the later — succession is co-existence, and the primitive mind is imperishable.
The Mind (n.) must be pictured not in sharp outlines like a primitive drawing but in areas of colour melting into one another, as modern painters show them.
The Mind (n.) is known only at its two ends, the brain and the act of consciousness, and everything in between is dark.
The Mind (n.) is one, Freud insisted; to equate it with consciousness is to break its unity for the sake of a definition.
The Mind (n.) is not an easy instrument to play upon, Freud warns with Hamlet's recorder, and untrained hands can do harm.
The Mind (n.) is a proud superstructure, and dreams and illness show how unstable it is whenever the underworld gains ground.
The Mind (n.) is like a modern state in which a mob eager for pleasure and destruction is held down by force by a prudent ruling class.