‘It is not at all the same thing. The wish to kill and the action of killing are two different things. If in your bedroom instead of a little wax figure you had had your stepmother bound and helpless and a dagger in your hand instead of a pin, you would not have pushed it into her heart! Something within you would have said “no”. It is the same with me. I enrage myself at an imbecile. I say, “I would like to kick him.” Instead, I kick the table. I say, “This table, it is the imbecile, I kick him so.” And then, if I have not hurt my toe too much, I feel much better and the table it is not usually damaged. But if the imbecile himself was there I should not kick him. To make the wax figures and stick in the pins, it is silly, yes, it is childish, yes-but it does something useful too. You took the hate out of yourself and put it into that little figure. And with the pin and the fire you destroyed-not your stepmother-but the hate you bore her. Afterwards, even before you heard of her death, you felt cleansed, did you not-you felt lighter-happier?’