Transference (n.) belongs not to inertia but to insistence.
Transference (n.) is there as soon as the subject who is supposed to know exists somewhere.
Transference (n.) is the normal error of existence under its three headings: love, hate, and ignorance.
Transference (n.) turns the analyst into a holding station for other people's purloined letters, kept in sufferance for a while.
Transference (n.) begins with the patient's belief that his truth is already in us and that we know it in advance.
Transference (n.) is, as Freud reassured colleagues, only the patient's desire — yes, but in its meeting with the analyst's desire.
Transference (n.) pushed toward the beyond of language ends in reciprocal sniffing — which some analysts hail as the long-awaited object relation.
Transference (n.) however skilfully theorized keeps being practised as a relation purely dual in its terms and utterly confused in its substratum.
Transference (n.) is a concept that directs how patients are treated — and conversely, the way they are treated governs the concept.
Transference (n.) is positive when you have a soft spot for the analyst, negative when you have to keep your eye on him.
Transference (n.) was first mapped when Socrates told Alcibiades not 'Look to your soul' but 'Look to your desire, look to your onions.'
Transference (n.) is also a suggestion, but one that works only through the demand for love — a demand that answers to no need.
Transference (n.) happens between the Other and the ego precisely where the little other, represented by the analyst, is lacking.
Transference (n.) of the negative kind is the patient's aggression toward the analyst — not an obstacle but the initial knot of the analytic drama.
Transference (n.) is where the analyst's freedom is alienated by the doubling of his person — and there the secret of analysis is to be sought.
Transference (n.) is the word for why someone sees an analyst three times a week for years, yet naming it does not explain why it lasts.
Transference (n.) is not the love and hatred it modulates; it is what lets us read the language of everything the subject presents.
Transference (n.) is love — Freud saw no essential distinction between this artificial phenomenon and what in everyday life we call passionate love.
Transference (n.) is how a masked discourse, the discourse of the unconscious, takes hold of an apparent one, moving into its emptied-out leftovers.
Transference (n.) was the principle of Freud's power — not very different from suggestion — but it solved anything only on condition that he did not use it.