When you are mad, mad like this, you don't know it. Reality is what you see. When what you see shifts, departing from anyone else's reality, it's still reality to you.
Crazy people are considered mad by the rest of the society only because their intelligence isn't understood.
(a.) The condition of being mad; insanity; lunacy.
(a.) Frenzy; ungovernable rage; extreme folly.
she will change the world someday, her cure of love in a world gone mad; is the gentle kind of touch that will teach women to grow and men to rise.
Wondering and writing constitute positive madness.
In a mad world, only the mad are sane.
To remain sane in a mad world is the true victory.
Madness does not always howl. Sometimes, it is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "Hey, is there room in your head for one more?
The essential truth is that sometimes you're worried that they'll find out it's a fluke, that you don't really have it. You've lost the muse or - the worst dread - you never had it at all. I went thro...
All cities are mad: but the madness is gallant. All cities are beautiful: but the beauty is grim.
Anger is a short madness.
Then the rushing Pequod, freighted with savages, and laden with fire, and burning a corpse, and plunging into that blackness of darkness, seemed the material counterpart of her monomaniac commander's...
All great art has madness, and quite a lot of bad art has it, too.
He stands alone in hollow gloom, with the sound of his own breath whispering down unseen passages ahead and behind and to both sides, wondering how he stumbled into this blackest of all labyrinths.He...
I don't think I could ever see her closely, the sentinel replied, however close she came. His own voice was hushed and regretful, echoing with lost chances. She has a newness, he said. Everything is f...
Lots of people go mad in January. Not as many as in May, of course. Nor June. But January is your third most common month for madness.
Perhaps it was a passing moment of madness after all. There is no trace of it any more. My odd feelings of the other week seem to me quite ridiculous today: I can no longer enter into them.
Who but the mad would choose to keep on living? In the end, aren't we all just a little crazy?
They say that it's a crazy world out there. I don't mind contributing by a bit of madness myself.
There is madness in youth, but sometimes a god inspires it.
We all talk to ourselves. Those we call mad just talk a little louder.
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