I hesitate to deposit money in a bank. I am afraid I shall never dare to take it out again. When you go to confession and entrust your sins to the safe-keeping of the priest, do you ever come back for them?

The quip plays on an analogy between banking and confession to expose how institutions convert what is “yours” into something administered by an external authority. Depositing money becomes a kind of symbolic surrender: once placed inside the system, it is no longer simply possessed but managed, abstracted, and made to circulate according to rules you don’t control. The confession comparison sharpens the point: sins handed to a priest are not reclaimed because the ritual presumes transfer, absolution, and institutional custody. In Baudrillardian terms, the joke gestures toward how modern systems (finance, religion) operate through signs, trust, and irreversible exchanges that can leave the subject feeling dispossessed of both wealth and responsibility.