Suppression (n.) stores energy: psychical force held down and inhibited by day becomes the motive force of dreams by night.
Suppression (n.) is the censorship's second signature, as distortion is its first: contrary thoughts, each carrying a feeling, cancel each other out into calm.
Suppression (n.) exists above all to prevent the release of unpleasure, and so it must reach into the very ideas from which unpleasure might start.
Suppression (n.) is never complete: from the slightest slip to the severest neurosis, what consciousness pushed away has not been robbed of all capacity for expressing itself.
Suppression (n.) however ruthless leaves room for distorted surrogate impulses — so no generation can hide its important mental processes from the next.
Suppression (n.) often fails without looking like failure: the drives return in other shapes, as harmful as if they had been satisfied.
Suppression (n.) carried to its end is the horse of Schilda: weaned off oats stalk by stalk until, the day it learned to live on nothing, it was found dead.