Jung on Dreams–Part II

Sue Mehrtens is the author of this and all the other blog essays on this site. The opinions expressed in these essays are her own and do not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of other Jungian Center faculty or Board members.  Honesty, as well as professional courtesy, require that you give proper attribution to the author if you post this essay elsewhere.



Jung on Dreams

Part II: Jung’s Empirical Methods of Working with Dreams


“So difficult is it to understand the dream that for a long time I have made it a rule, when someone tells me a dream and asks for my opinion, to say first of all to myself: “I have no idea what this dream means.” After that I can begin to examine the dream.”[1]


“…. As a general rule, if you already know what the dream seems to be saying, then you have missed its meaning…. “[2]


“A sign is always less than the thing it points to, and a symbol is always more than we can understand at first sight. Therefore we never stop at the sign but go on to the goal it indicates; but we remain with the symbol because it promises more than it reveals.”[3]


“There is no therapeutic technique or doctrine that is generally applicable, since every case that comes for treatment is an individual in a specific condition.”[4]


“I am persuaded that the true end of analysis is reached when the patient has gained an adequate knowledge of the methods by which he can maintain contact with the unconscious, and has acquired a psychological understanding sufficient for him to discern the direction of his life-line at the moment. Without this his conscious mind will not be able to follow the currents of libido and consciously sustain the individuality he has achieved. A patient who has had any serious neurosis needs to be equipped in this way if he is to persevere in his cure.”[5]


“… through the assimilation of unconscious contents, the momentary life of consciousness can once more be brought into harmony with the law of nature from which it all too easily departs, and the patient can be led back to the natural law of his own being.”[6]


“So it seldom happens that anyone who has taken the trouble to work over his dreams with qualified assistance for a longer period of time remains without enrichment and a broadening of his mental horizon.”[7]


A few words of the title of this essay warrant amplification. First, “empirical;” Jung was a true scientist, i.e. he worked by making countless observations and then formulated hypotheses based on his experiences in these acts of observing.[8] In other words, Jung was an empiricist, using induction, the process of collecting data and then formulating a hypothesis.[9] In this, as in many other ways, Jung differed from Freud, who used deduction, starting with theories and then searching for instances that proved his ideas.[10]

Second, “methods:” Jung had a variety of ways he handled dreams, but he never used a fixed method when working with his patients, as the fourth quote above notes. Jung treated every person as a unique individual.[11] Rather than “systematic” or “orderly”–adjectives that relate to being “methodical”[12]–we might better describe Jung as adaptable and responsive to the needs of his patient, even when that meant being inconsistent.[13]

Part II of “Jung on Dreams” considers some of the ways Jung worked with dreams. A final section tackles the question “Why bother with dreams,” noting the many ways Jung found value in dreams and dream work


Jung’s Methods for Working with Dreams


Remembering and recording dreams. As I noted in Part I of this essay, Jung was known for his emphasis on dreams. When he took on a new patient, he instructed the person to pay attention to dreams, not in a casual way, but seriously: get a journal, keep it by the bedside, write down any dreams that came, even if this was in the middle of the night; be sure to date the dream and note any significant event of the day or days before which might throw light on the dream as “day residue.”[14]

The recording step requires either writing the dream in a journal or speaking the dream into a voice-activated recording device. Jung was not into technological gizmos,[15] so he never mentioned audible recording. Rather, most analysts still suggest keeping a dream journal and pen/pencil by the bedside, to make it quick and easy to jot down the dream[16]–or at least the bits you can remember. I keep a little book light hooked on to my journal, as I have found that turning on the bedside lamp wakes me up too much.

Most of the time I feel certain I have not captured every detail; we do what we can. But details do matter, so try to get as much of the elements of the dream as you can.

Work with a series of dreams, not a single dream. The patient was to bring his/her journal to the session, prepared to read the dreams to Jung. Note the plural: dreams. He told his audience in his Tavistock Lectures:

“I do not like to analyze one dream alone, because a single dream can be interpreted arbitrarily. You can speculate anything about an isolated dream; but if you compare a series of, say, twenty or one hundred dreams, then you see interesting things. You see the process that is going on in the unconscious from night to night, and the continuity of the unconscious psyche extending through day and night.” [17]

Thanks to decades of experience, Jung knew that our psyche is always present, noting daily events and, more often than not, incorporating some elements of a day’s experience in the nightly dreams it offers up.

But suppose I don’t remember my dreams? To this question, Jung would remind his patients that “at night, when there is that abaissement du niveau mental,[18] the dreams can break through and become visible.”[19] When our mind is less active, throwing up less static, we have a better chance of becoming aware of the psyche’s speaking to us. We can also prompt recall by saying, as we go to bed, “Tonight I will remember my dreams.” This, plus the patient’s awareness of Jung’s expectation, usually resulted in capturing a dream. With my own students, I have found similar prompts work most of the time. Adequate sleep, pre-bedtime relaxation, warm milk before bed, and various herbs (like St. John’s wort) also seem to help foster dream recall.[20]

Feel humble in the face of the psyche’s productions. This is perhaps the easiest piece of advice Jung gives us.

“So difficult is it to understand the dream that for a long time I have made it a rule, when someone tells me a dream and asks for my opinion, to say first of all to myself: “I have no idea what this dream means.” After that I can begin to examine the dream.”[21]

Before we try to tackle interpreting a dream we should follow Jung’s practice and admit the limitations of our understanding. If Jung–with his experience interpreting thousands of dreams–would begin with this statement of humility, how much more must we do so! When I give my dream students this step, they quickly agree that they have no idea what to make of the dream.

Bring your whole self to the task of interpretation. Jung recalled the advice of the old alchemists: “Ars totum requirit hominem”[22]–the art [of working with the psyche] requires the whole person–head (rationality) and heart (feelings and intuitions).[23] This means we must ignore our culture’s tendency to denigrate “soft” things like intuitions and emotions. In fact, in my experience working with hundreds of people’s dreams, I have found the interpretation is much easier for Intuitive and/or Feeling types. Very “heady” students (who tend to live in their heads) often have a hard time with the interpretation process.–they keep trying to “figure it out,” as if the rational mind is the only asset that works. When Jung spoke of the “whole person,” he noted not only the value of thinking, feeling and intuitions, but also the “philosophical, religious and moral convictions” of the dreamer.[24] All of these aspects must be considered as we undertake this “art [which Jung recognized is]… difficult, but capable of being learned by those whose gift and destiny it is.”[25]

Skip any theory: let the dream speak for itself. As his patient read his/her dream to Jung, Jung often got intuitions about the dream.[26] We can do likewise, always remembering to keep our ideas, reasons, and assumptions in abeyance. An intuition may be on the mark, but it may not. As I noted in Part I, Jung did not agree with Freud, in either his deductive method (beginning with theory and then finding elements in the dream to corroborate it) or his notion that dreams were “disguises.”[27] Jung was explicit that we should “Never apply any theory, but always ask the patient how he feels about his dream-images.”[28] One of the dangers of theories is that we can be tempted to fit the dream into a preconceived model or theory, thus distorting its meaning and blocking us from getting the psyche’s message.

            Handle “the dream as if it were a text which I do not understand properly.”[29] Much like a philologist attempting to understand an obscure text, Jung told his students that “the dream does not conceal; we simply do not understand its language.”[30] We might consider the dream as a text that is fragmentary, full of foreign words we don’t know, but we proceed in the sure conviction that the psyche is conveying a message.[31] When I began to work with my dreams nearly four decades ago, I came to realize this step was similar to the explication de texte method I learned at Yale: take each word of the dream and note any thoughts or ideas that come to mind about it. In some cases, this would send me to the dictionary to check the range of meanings which our culture gives to the word, or it would give me the etymology of the word.[32] This often proved to be helpful, especially when I shared my associations with my analyst.

“Take up the context” of the dream.[33] By this, Jung meant that we work to be sure we have meanings for “every salient feature of the dream,”[34] by gathering all the associations, ideas and reactions we got in the previous step. This focus on context includes a range of activities: we determine the sequence or structure of the dream; we get a picture of the overall situation and consider how the outer-life situation might be compensated by the dream; we consider the attitude of the unconscious; and we do all this while we “circumambulate the dream.”[35]

Jungian dream interpreters often find that a series of dreams have a sequence that builds a story or elaborates the meaning of the previous dream(s).[36] This is why Jung always wanted more than a single dream to work with. Many dreams also have a structure similar to a play, i.e. with an Exposition, stating a place or scene in the beginning, and making a statement about the protagonists, followed by a Development of the plot, in which the situation becomes complicated, and then a “Culmination or peripeteia,”[37] in which “something decisive happens or something changes completely.”[38] A final phase, the lysis, or Solution, is not found in every dream.[39]

We need to see the “forest” amid the myriad “trees” of details in the dream, so we endeavor to get a sense of what is going on generally, and, in particular, how the dream might be compensating for some outer-life situation. In Jung’s system this is one of the key features of dreams, as noted in Part I. Just as the doctor would try to restore an electrolyte imbalance in our physical body, so the psyche tries to compensate for imbalances in our consciousness. So, for example, if we have been focused almost exclusively in Sensation-type activities (e.g. packing, moving, unpacking, cleaning, etc.), the psyche is likely to offer up dreams full of fantasy images, scenes of relaxing on a sunny beach, listening to music etc–images drawing more on Intuition and Feeling functions, as if to remind us that “this also is true.”[40]

Considering the possibility that a dream might be compensatory is one facet of getting insight into the attitude of the unconscious. Do the words or images in the dream resonate with the dreamer? If so, how?  Is the dream a prodromal dream, i.e. is the psyche revealing “psychogenic symptoms”[41] or a physical condition that might need attention? Or does the dream have “teleological or prospective significance,”[42] revealing some goal or looking to the future? Posing questions like this can do much to explicate the dream.

Jung would take up all these activities and questions while he circumambulated the dream. The circumambulatio was a technique of the alchemists,[43] who knew that nothing in the psychic realm is linear, straightforward or direct. (Sigh!) Instead, the journey into wholeness is akin to going around and around a tall mountain, moving up and down into dips and valleys, as the path leads onward. I recall this happening to me so many times in my analysis, showing up when I would complain to my analyst: “But I thought I was finished with this!” With the second iteration, or perhaps the eighth, or the fifteenth, we begin to get the psyche’s message. In working with the psyche, as in so much else in life, we learn by repetition.

This patience-trying process of going round and round is especially important when we deal with dreams that contain symbols. As I noted in Part I, Jung did not treat symbols as signs. A sign has a meaning. By contrast, “symbols have not one meaning only but several, and often they even characterize a pair of opposites,…”.[44] Jung felt that many symbols were so rich in meaning that they could never be fully unpacked, and in this feature, they had the power to work transformation. So, when he came upon a symbol in a dream, Jung often took pains to work with the patient to amplify the symbol.

“Much of the art of Jungian analysis lies in amplifying images to the point where the ego experiences its connection to the archetypal world in a healing fashion, but not to such an extent that the ego is swamped in a sea of non-unified archetypal contents.”[45]

The analyst asks the patient for his/her associations to the symbol, to glean the personal associations. Then the two consider the collective associations (how the dreamer’s culture or society regards the symbol), and then the natural associations (what we know scientifically about the symbol), and finally, if the symbol has archetypal aspects, what these might be (which dreamers not trained in Jungian psychology might not know).[46] A picture illustrating how this works is below.

The symbol in this example is the lion. The patient made several personal associations: roaring, mane, dangerous, and then, when asked about what our society might think of, he offered “symbol of MGM movies,” at the beginning of which there was a roaring male lion. Science would classify a lion as a feline, fierce, a dangerous predator, and as a symbol, lions show up in the astrological sign of Leo, with a host of adjectives that relate to the personality of a Leo (e.g. pride, Extraversion, fiery, creative, strong, jovial, exuberant, regal, optimistic).[47]

The lines reflect Jung’s method, in which, for each association, the patient keeps coming back to the symbol, unlike in Freud’s “free association,”[48] which takes the dreamer farther and farther away from the symbol.

Be open to using both the reductive and the constructive methods. According to the “nature of the case,”[49] Jung would use the reductive method “in all cases where it is a question of illusions, fictions, and exaggerated attitudes.”[50] That is, the patient was inflated, too full of himself, or full of erroneous ideas. More usually Jung found the constructive method useful

“for all cases where the conscious attitude is more or less normal, but capable of greater development and refinement, or where unconscious tendencies, also capable of development, are being misunderstood and kept under by the conscious mind. The reductive standpoint is the distinguishing feature of Freudian interpretation. It always leads back to the primitive and elementary. The constructive standpoint, on the other hand, tries to synthesize, to build up, to direct one’s gaze forwards. It is less pessimistic than the other, which is always on the look-out for the morbid and thus tries to break down something complicated into something simple. It may occasionally be necessary for the treatment to destroy pathological structures; but treatment consists just as often, or even oftener, in strengthening and protecting what is healthy and worth preserving, so as to deprive the morbidities of any foothold.”[51]

In my experience, I have never used the reductive method, and I hope I never have to.

Work with a variety of techniques. In his own life Jung created drawings, paintings, and mandalas, often while he meditated, and he encouraged his students to do likewise.[52] These were not the only techniques he found useful. Some of his patients chose to work with clay, or dance and move in ways that helped make sense of a dream.[53] Other Jungian analysts, like James Hall, have patients use Gestalt techniques, or work with the sand tray, in which the patient creates a landscape with figures that can foster insights into the workings of the psyche.[54] Another key way to amplify or carry the dream forward is active imagination–a technique unique to Jungian analysis,[55] which warrants an essay of its own.

Why Bother with Dreams?

Dreams foster healing. Jung put a premium on dreams for multiple reasons. As a medical doctor Jung had evidence from his earliest years at the Burghölzli clinic about how dreams can help psychiatrists both diagnose and heal mental illness, by serving as a bridge between

“… consciousness and the ultimately physiological foundations of the psyche. The practical importance of such a bridge can hardly be overrated. It is the indispensable link between the rational world of consciousness and the world of instinct. The more our consciousness is influenced by prejudices, fantasies, infantile wishes, and the lore of objective objects, the more the already existing gap will widen out into a neurotic dissociation and lead to an artificial life far removed from healthy instincts, nature, and truth. Dreams try to reestablish the equilibrium by restoring the images and emotions that express the state of the unconscious.”[56]

His clinical experience taught Jung that “rational talk”[57] did not do much to effect healing, as it is “far too flat and colorless,”[58] while dreams provide “just those images which appeal to the deeper strata of the psyche.”[59]

We don’t have to be patients in a mental hospital to experience the healing power of dreams. Jung and his fellow analysts noted how the experience of “dream situations”[60] led to a change in the attitude or mood of their clients. By illuminating “the patient’s situation in a way that can be exceedingly beneficial to health,”[61] dreams can help us face reality and get our act together (i.e. individuate).

Dreams act as correctives. Besides their healing power, dreams are valuable for their corrective ability. Jung was clear on the importance of this feature of the unconscious:

“The message of the unconscious is of greater importance than most people realize. As consciousness is exposed to all sorts of external attractions and distractions, it is easily led astray and seduced into following ways that are unsuited to its individuality. The general function of dreams is to balance such disturbances in the mental equilibrium by producing contents of a complementary or compensatory kind.”[62]

Often we are not aware of our one-sidedness or how we have gotten into activities for which we are unsuited. But, “…when one is deviating from the personally right and true path,”[63] a dream can rectify such situations,[64] and, in doing so, dreams serve the individuation process. They “accomplish this through compensating distorted or one-sided views held by the waking-ego.”[65]

Dreams provide insights. Jung regarded dreams “as a valuable source of information”[66] and “a mean of orientation”[67] for both the doctor and the patient. Jung felt dreams have this value because they are “something independent of desire and fear, something as impersonal as a product of nature,”[68] which, thanks to this objectivity, “enables us to know the truth about ourselves.”[69]

Jung called dreams “an extraordinarily effective instrument of education.”[70] They can help us make decisions, due to their wider perspective on reality.[71] They help analysts understand what is going on in the therapeutic situation. They assist in our grasping “the meaning of the complex, so that its ‘purpose’ can be understood in consciousness.”[72] In my experience, this feature of dreams helped me deal with my negative father complex–how it got formed, how it marred my life, and what role it served in my growth and individuation process. Jung went so far as to declare that the interpretation of dreams “offers the key to the unconscious.”[73]

Dreams foster creativity. In a 1959 questionnaire, Jung was asked if he thought dreams play a part in the creative process. He replied: “For years my dreams used to anticipate my creative activities as well as other things.”[74] In an essay Jung wrote for the Society for Psychical Research, Jung called dreams “inspirations.”[75] Jung was not alone in finding dreams helpful in his occupation. Other scientists, like Friedrich Kekulé and Otto Loewi, made major discoveries thanks to dreams–Kekulé with the structure of benzene[76] and Loewi with nerve functions, as I noted in Part I.

In my own life, nearly all my creativity has been mediated through dreams. The unusual “voice-over” dreams I get created the Jungian Center (as I described in Part I, in reference to months of recurring dreams). These odd dreams also lead to course creation, essay topics, and the development of my books. It would be no exaggeration to say that my ego-mind is little more than a conduit for the psyche’s creativity in much of what I have accomplished in the last 38 years.

Dreams provide enrichment and empowerment. Jung felt that “every dream is an organ of information and control,… our most effective aid in building up the personality.”[77] By helping us to assimilate contents of the unconscious, dreams can help to lead us back to “the natural law of [our] own being.”[78] Jung saw how people who worked with their dreams over time gained “enrichment and a broadening of [their] mental horizon.”[79] Jung went so far as to claim that “One could even say that the interpretation of dreams enriches consciousness to such an extent that it relearns the foreign language of the instincts.”[80]

Because many dreams are compensatory, “a methodical analysis of dreams discloses new points of view,”[81] and new ways to overcome problems and obstacles. While our egos always have “a limited view of reality,”[82] a dream “manifests a tendency toward enlargement of the ego…”[83] and the psyche can offer up a perspective that places “the real situation in a wider context than its everydayness would usually evoke.”[84] Dreams can empower us, because they put us in touch with an inner “larger, more superior personality, the ‘greater’ version of ourselves, one somehow outside the fears and tensions of the waking-ego.”[85] Many a time I have found a dream to be wonderful ballast to a situation that had me anxious; even as I wrote the dream on awakening I felt the tension and worry drain away.

In addition to healing his patients, Jung sought to empower them–to help them learn the techniques for doing their own dream analyses, lest they relapse. For those without mental illness, Jung still felt a regular connection to the psyche was important, and dream work was a natural way to sustain this conversation. So Jung tried to be sure his patients came to understand both the dream and the process:

“Understanding is clearly a very subjective process. It can be extremely one-sided, in that the doctor understands but not the patient…. When the understanding is all on my side, I say quite calmly that I do not understand, for in the end it makes very little difference whether the doctor understands or not, but it makes all the difference whether the patient understands…. The danger of a one-sided understanding is that the doctor may judge the dream from the standpoint of a preconceived opinion. His judgment may… be fundamentally correct, but it will not win the patient’s assent, he will not come to an understanding with him, and that is in the practical sense incorrect–incorrect because it anticipates and thus cripples the patient’s development. The patient, that is to say, does not need to have a truth inculcated into him–if we do that, we only reach his head; he needs far more to grow up to this truth, and in that way we reach his heart, and the appeal goes deeper and works more powerfully.”[86]

Note that Jung would deny his understanding of a dream if his patient wasn’t getting it. He was humble and more focused on empowering his patient than on showing off his superior ability. Nor did Jung get into dogma or rational arguments, but could be patient with his patient, giving him/her time to grow into the dream’s meaning.




It is common in our society to find dreams and dream work dismissed as useless and a waste of time. I am often regarded as a freak when people discover that I actually live by dreams. When I encounter Jungian Center students who are hesitant to record and work with their dreams, I remind them of the healing, corrective, inspiring, creative and enriching potentials that dreams offer.

Then I pitch an argument that our society finds more compelling: dreams can save us time. How so? We spend hours every night sleeping. Why waste this time, when the psyche is offering up its insights and suggestions in the dreams that can throw insights on daily life, and even solve practical problems? Dreams might be “mysterious”[87] and hard to understand, but we ignore a huge inner resource when we devalue our dreams.




Guiley, Rosemany (1998), Dreamwork for the Soul. New York: Berkley Books.

Guttman, Ariel & Kenneth Johnson (2004), Mythic Astrology: Internalizing the Planetary Powers. St. Paul MN: Llewellyn Publications.

Hall, James (1983), Jungian Dream Interpretation. Toronto: Inner City Press.

________ (1986), The Jungian Experience: Analysis and Individuation. Toronto: Inner City Press.

Hannah, Barbara (1976), Jung: His Life and Work, A Biographical Memoir. New York; G.P. Putnam’s Sons.

Jacobi, Jolande (1968), The Psychology of C.G. Jung. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul.

Jung, C.G. (1961), “Freud and Psychoanalysis,” Collected Works, 4. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

________ (1971), “Psychological Types,” Collected Works, 6. Princeton: Princeton University Press

________ (1966), “Two Essays on Analytical Psychology,” CW 7. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

________ (1960), ”The Structure and Dynamics of the Psyche,” CW 8. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

________ (1966), “The Spirit in Man, Art, and Literature,” CW 15. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

________ (1954), “The Practice of Psychotherapy,” CW 16, 2nd ed. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

________ (1954), “The Development of Personality,” CW 17. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

________ (1976), ”The Symbolic Life,” CW 18. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

________ (1984), Seminar on Dream Analysis. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

________ (2009), The Red Book Liber Novus, ed. Sonu Shamdasani. New York: W.W. Norton.

[1] Collected Works 8 ¶533. Hereafter Collected Works will be abbreviated CW.

[2] Hall (1983), 37.

[3] CW 18 ¶482.

[4] Ibid. ¶515.

[5] CW 7 ¶501.

[6] CW 16 ¶351.

[7] CW 8 ¶549.

[8] World Book Encyclopedia Dictionary, I, 644.

[9] Ibid.

[10] CW 15 ¶70.

[11] Hannah (1976), 202.

[12] World Book Encyclopedia Dictionary, II, 1220.

[13] This is a feature of the Introverted Thinking type and his writing style; Jung describes this type in detail in CW 6 ¶s632-637. This was Jung’s own type.

[14] Jacobi (1968), 70.

[15] He reluctantly bought an automobile in 1929, almost 30 years after he became a doctor. He hated using the telephone; he never went to the movies, did not own a television, and never flew in a jet plane. Hannah (1976), 65, note D. For more on Jung ‘s dislike of modern technologies, see the blog essay “Jung on Modern Technology,” archived on the Jungian Center web site.

[16] Hall (1986), 94.

[17] CW 18 ¶162.

[18] The French means “a lowering of the mental level,” which serves to bring consciousness closer to the unconscious.

[19] CW 18 ¶162.

[20] Guiley (1998), 183.

[21] CW 8 ¶533.

[22] By “art” the alchemists meant more than our narrow definition of the plastic and performing arts; they used the term to refer to activities that demanded commitment, time, perseverance and effort to perform.

[23] CW 17 ¶198.

[24] CW 16 ¶339.

[25] CW 17 ¶198.

[26] Ibid. ¶115.

[27] CW 7 ¶490.

[28] CW 18 ¶248.

[29] Ibid. ¶172.

[30] Ibid.

[31] Ibid. ¶471.

[32] Jung put great store in history, including the history of words (etymology); Jung (1984), 69.

[33] CW 8 ¶542.

[34] Ibid.

[35] CW 18 ¶430.

[36] Ibid. ¶181.

[37] CW 8 ¶563.

[38] Ibid.

[39] Ibid. ¶564.

[40] My analyst often uses this phrase when encountering a compensatory dream.

[41] CW 8 ¶546.

[42] CW 4 ¶452.

[43] CW 12 ¶186.

[44] CW 7 ¶182.

[45] Hall (1983), 13.

[46] This is because the archetypes and the archetypal level are features of Jung’s brand of psychology and not found in other schools of psychology.

[47] Guttman & Johnson (2004), 275-283.

[48] CW 18 ¶171.

[49] CW 17 ¶194.

[50] Ibid. ¶195.

[51] CW 17 ¶195.

[52] Many of Jung’s mandalas came to public viewing with the publication of his Red Book in 2009; see the color plates in Jung (2009).

[53] Hall (1983), 13-14.

[54] Ibid.

[55] Hall (1986), 107.

[56] CW 18 ¶474.

[57] Ibid.

[58] Ibid.

[59] Ibid.

[60] Hall (1983), 24.

[61] CW 8 ¶549.

[62] CW 18 ¶471.

[63] Hall (1983), 24.

[64] CW 8 ¶482.

[65] Hall (1986), 107.

[66] CW 7 ¶174.

[67] CW 18 ¶504.

[68] CW 17 ¶112.

[69] Ibid.

[70] CW 7 ¶174.

[71] Hall (1983), 91.

[72] Hall (1986), 33.

[73] CW 17 ¶191.

[74] CW 18 ¶1766.

[75] CW 8 ¶574.

[76] Hall (1986), 101.

[77] CW 16 ¶332.

[78] Ibid. ¶351.

[79] CW 17 ¶208.

[80] CW 18 ¶474.

[81] CW 8 ¶549.

[82] Hall (1983), 37.

[83] Ibid.

[84] Ibid,, 91.

[85] CW 16 ¶314.

[86] Ibid.

[87] Hall (1983), 117.

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