The Psyche (n.) exists only because the living being is not at peace with itself: a being wholly satisfied within its skin would need no mind.
The Psyche (n.) is not a floor built on top of life but a fresh dive into the preindividual, which starts again from a more primitive individuation.
The Psyche (n.) cannot solve its own problems alone: the unspent charge it carries pushes it toward a group.
The Psyche (n.) can only disrupt life when it treats it as clay: giving the vital a form yields malformations and an illusion of working.
The Psyche (n.) is neither pure inside nor pure outside, and it is not a crowd of atoms or one smooth flow: its states come in quanta, leaps between unity and plurality.
The Psyche (n.) begins with a break: the easy link between you and the world must be cut before it can be rebuilt as thought.
The Psyche (n.) is made by what it makes: it can only be built out of the very relations it builds.
The Psyche (n.) starts where life's balance is judged not enough.
The Psyche (n.) has no territory of its own; it is a layer printed over matter and life, holding parts of both while sitting inside them.
The Psyche (n.) is a being trying to solve a problem in which it is itself one of the pieces.
The Psyche (n.) cannot settle its own case alone; the unfinished charge it carries from before birth is exactly what ties it to others.