Before, for five marks, Freud himself treated you. For ten, he treated you and ironed your pants. For fifteen marks, Freud allowed you to treat him, and that included an invitation to eat.
I hate reality, but it's the only place where you can eat a good steak.
The death of Freud, according to Ernest Jones, was the incident that caused the definitive rupture between Hemholtz and Freud, as evidenced by the fact that they very rarely spoke to each other again.
Man does not live by bread alone. Every now and then, he also needs a drink.
I don't believe in an afterlife, but just in case, I've changed my underwear.