I have a faith in the written word that escapes or mystifies many people I talk to in both my personal and professional lives. Words lie is a cliché, and my faith in words may cause some people to snicker at what they consider to be my naiveté; because they believe that people are so good at misinterpreting one another through words. I stick to my faith in words—words processed through tears and over coffees, words mistily remembered from literature that has left me breathless, words that assure me I am loved. I believe that words loosen the unconscious and bring its contents to the light, and unless that happens—or we aid its happening—more than a little, we sink toward a stasis or a psychic and bodily entropy that atrophies our ability to love ourselves.

Joanna Freuh, Swooning Beauty: a memoir of pleasure, X