"Había un proverbio sumerio que decía "Él es temeroso, como un hombre que no conoce la cerveza" y otro, todavía más revelador, que decía "No conocer … - Mark Forsyth

According to legend (the beautiful elder sister of truth),

Half of the art of bookselling is about choosing what not to have in your shop. It is not enough to have good books, you must not have bad books.

Carl Jung was Freud’s protégé. Then one day Carl had a dream that wasn’t about sex. He hesitated before telling Freud something quite that embarrassing. Confessing to a psychoanalyst that you’ve had an innocent dream is rather like confessing to your grandmother that you’ve had a dirty one. Freud was outraged. What sort of fruitcake, he demanded, has a dream that isn’t dirty? It was inconceivable. Freud decided that Jung had gone quite mad, that the dream really had been dirty, and that Jung was just being coy.

Jung insisted that his dream wasn’t about sex and that, in fact, it was about his grandparents being hidden in a cellar. So he rejected Freud’s pansexualism (not a sin of cookery, but the belief that everything comes down to nooky) and ran off to become a Jungian.