They have done this through sexual repression, economic repression, political repression, social repression, ideological repression and spiritual repression.
People with a culture of poverty suffer much less from repression than we of the middle class suffer and indeed, if I may make the suggestion with due qualification, they often have a hell of a lot more fun than we have.
Know how sublime a thing it is to suffer and be strong.
What interests me in [Lincoln in the Bardo] is a slight perverse balance between the sublime and the grotesque. Like you could have landed only on the sublime. But my argument is that the sublime couldn't exist without this other half.
I keep thinking of Robert Stone making the distinction between the word sublime and the word beautiful. He described being in a battle as sublime. Because even though people were dying, it was such a huge sensory experience that it became sublime.
I was raised in a truly typical Midwestern home with a lot of repression. My life, and the creation of Playboy, were a response to that repression.
I have a lot of repression. So repression is what I make movies about.
The social repression and ideological repression of women began with depriving them of education, political decisiveness, mobility and essentially creating sexual slavery.
One of the things you can learn from a figure like Venezuela's Hugo Chavez is that if you take all the resources of the state for yourself, you don't build much of a constituency and you have to rely on repression, and repression is difficult in the modern world.
The existing liberties and the existing gratifications are tied to the requirements of repression: they themselves become instruments of repression.
Sublime upon sublime scarcely presents a contrast, and we need a little rest from everything, even the beautiful.
I listen to a lot of Sublime. Dude, I'm obsessed with Sublime. You have no idea.
Anything which elevates the mind is sublime. Greatness of matter, space, power, virtue or beauty, are all sublime.
The state in which the ideas existed before being made conscious is called by us repression, and we assert that the force which instituted the repression and maintains it is perceived as resistance during the work of analysis.
The sublime and the ridiculous are often so nearly related, that it is difficult to class them separately. One step above the sublime makes the ridiculous, and one step above the ridiculous makes the sublime again.
Whereas the beautiful is limited, the sublime is limitless, so that the mind in the presence of the sublime, attempting to imagine what it cannot, has pain in the failure but pleasure in contemplating the immensity of the attempt