"...Actually, not our hallowed realm, that's for Hynerians. Go find your own hallowed realm."
I read E.T.A. Hoffmann's "The Sandman," and was surprised to find that I actually liked it quite a lot. Then I read a bit from Freud discussing the work, and after a while I finally managed to pry my palm from my face. Freud's such a crackpot; he was talking about how the fear of getting your eyes plucked out is actually the fear of castration, with sort of the implication that anyone who thought otherwise had some explaining to do. Fail, Freud, fail. I'm pretty sure my dislike of having things touch my eyes has far more with them being sensitive to damage and little to do with my fear of losing my non-existent dangly bits.