Sometimes I wonder if the human race isn't collectively as mad as a sack of door knobs.
No excellent soul is exempt from a mixture of madness.- Aristotle (Attributed by Seneca in Moral Essays, "De Tranquillitate Animi" On Tranquility of Mind, sct. 17, subsct. 10.)
(a.) The condition of being mad; insanity; lunacy.
(a.) Frenzy; ungovernable rage; extreme folly.
Ideologists of all kinds find a strange sort of comfort in the madness of the crowd; it confirms them in their suspicion that history, far from being made by the great mass of individuals - as Marx av...
It takes strength to remember, it takes another kind of strength to forget, it takes a hero to do both. People who remember court madness through pain, the pain of the perpetually recurring death of t...
Men, it has been well said, think in herds; it will be seen that they go mad in herds, while they only recover their senses slowly, one by one.
You know those afternoons, he asks, drawing a shaking breath, where you’re just going along, doing fine, and then afternoon comes and it feels like you’ve just got the wind knocked out of you and ever...
You see, I'm not mad, I suffer from depression. It's not like ordinary misery. It's like dying of boredom. It's .
Excuse my enthusiasm or rather madness, for I am really drunk with intellectual vision whenever I take a pencil or graver into my hand.
Melancholy is an escape not from reality, but unreality of the world.
Wondering is a positive madness.
Going mad is the beginning of a process. It is not supposed to be the end result.
...I would be the last person to say that madness is not a solution.
Science has not yet taught us if madness is or is not the sublimity of the intelligence.
And never, never, dear madam, put 'Wednesday' simply as the date!
He stood up straight and looked the world squarely in the fields and hills. To add weight to his words he stuck the rabbit bone in his hair. He spread his arm out wide. I will go mad! he annouced.
I do not believe that a dream should necessarily be taken for reality, or reality for madness.
It is true that I am a person with black pockets of evil and hatred in my heart. There are underground places inside of me
That is what madness is, isn't it? All the wheels fly off the bus and things don't make sense any more. Or rather, they do, but it's not a kind of sense anyone else can understand.
True, nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am, but why will say that I am mad?! The disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing...
A moment of anger is a moment of resentment and madness which can burn your heart.
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