Insanity comes in two basic varieties: slow and fast.
Mental illness seems to be a communication problem between interpreters one and two.
Like putting a gun in your mouth. But you put it there, you taste it, it’s cold and greasy, your finger is on the trigger, and you find that a whole world lies between this moment and the moment you’v...
A tidal wave of blackness broke over her head. The entire world was obliterated–for a few minutes. She knew she had gone crazy. She looked around the theater to see if it had happened to everyone, but...
With wild eyes that had seen freedom.
All my integrity seemed to lie in saying No.
Or maybe I was just a girl, interrupted
Was I ever crazy? Maybe. Or maybe life is… Crazy isn’t being broken or swallowing a dark secret. It’s you or me amplified. If you ever told a lie and enjoyed it. If you ever wished you could be a chil...
Every window in Alcatraz has a view of San Francisco.
The shimmering, ever-shifting borderline, like all boundaries beckons and asks to be crossed.
Was insanity just a matter of dropping the act?
The point is, the brain talks to itself, and by talking to itself changes its perceptions. To make a new version of the not-entirely-false model, imagine the first interpreter as a foreign corresponde...
What is it about meter and cadence and rhythm that makes their makers mad?
Confuse was the nurses' word for abuse.
Actually, it was only part of myself I wanted to kill: the part that wanted to kill herself, that dragged me into the suicide debate and made every window, kitchen implement, and subway station a rehe...
I think many people kill themselves simply to stop the debate about whether they will or they won't.
If I could have any job in the world I'd be a professional Cinderella.
There is thought, and then there is thinking about thoughts, and they don’t feel the same. They must reflect quite different aspects of brain function. The point is, the brain talks to itself, and by...
Interrupted at her music: as my life had been, interrupted in the music of being seventeen, as her life had been, snatched and fixed on canvas: one moment made to stand still and to stand for all the...
Smile and the world smiles with you, cry and you cry alone.