Quotes About Mad

We fumed and screamed in our mountain nook, mad drunken Americans in the mighty land. We were on the roof of America and all we could do was yell, I guess--across the night...

I could hear Dean, blissful and blabbering and frantically rocking. Only a guy who's spent five years in jail can go to such maniacal helpless extremes; beseeching at the portals of the soft source, mad with a completely phsycial realization of the origins of life-bliss; blindly seeking to return the way he came

Mankind is like dogs, not gods - as long as you don't get mad they'll bite you - but stay mad and you'll never be bitten. Dogs don't respect humility and sorrow.

Then a complete silence fell over everybody; where once Dean would have talked his way out, he now fell silent himself, but standing in front of everybody, ragged and broken and idiotic, right under the lightbulbs, his bony mad face covered with sweat and throbbing veins, saying, Yes, yes, yes, as though tremendous revelations were pouring into him all the time now, and I am convinced they were, and the others suspected as much and were frightened. He was BEAT-the root, the soul of Beatific.

Memories and dreams are intermixed in this mad universe

Out we jumped in the warm, mad night, hearing a wild tenorman's bawling horns across the way going, ee-YAH, ee-YAH, and hands clapping to the beat and folks yelling go, go, go. And far from escorting the girls into the place, Dean Moriarty was already racing across the street with his huge bandaged thumb in the air yelling, BLOW, MAN, BLOW!

I did everything with that great mad joy you get when you return to New York City.

Brad was a huge surprise to me. I think we were both the last two people who were looking for a relationship. I certainly wasn't. I was quite content to be a single mom with Mad.

The planet's survival has become so uncertain that any effort, any thought that presupposes an assured future amounts to a mad gamble.

The real madness probably is not another thing that the wisdom itself that, tired of discovering the shames of the world, has taken the intelligent resolution to become mad

He has the manner of a giant with the look of a child, a lazy activeness, a mad wisdom, a solitude encompassing the world.

When I speak, I speak facts, and if you're getting mad, it's because you know it's the truth.

Great wine requires a mad man to grow the vine, a wise man to watch over it, a lucid poet to make it, and a lover to drink it.

I ask you, if a mad man came in and abducted your child and I said to you I can bring your child homedoes it matter how I bring them home?

Baseball fans! Good lord! I feel like sports fans get mad at you easier than country music fans. It scares me. I'm glad that country fans don't get mad every time I mess up.

My critics began saying I was a chauvinist, nationalist, mad nationalist.

I realized my sorrow, the regret of a restless, doomed spirit, rang in my voice. For the first time I wondered if my fate was to helplessly watch violence until I became as mad as the men who committed the murders.

Like looking down on a lubricious chess set, isn't it? The king moves in tiny steps, with no direction, like a drunkard trying to avoid the archer's bolt. The others work their strategies and wait for the old man to fall. He has no power, yet all power moves in his orbit and to his mad whim. Do you know there's no fool piece on the chessboard, Kent? Methinks the fool is the player, the mind above the moves.

No matter where he went in the City, there was an odoriferous mix of food and vehicles, like the alchemic concoctions of some mad gourmet mechanic: Kung Pao Saab Turbo, Buick Skylark Carbonara, Sweet-and-Sour Metro Bus, Honda Bolognese with Burning Clutch Sauce.

She gave him a wan smile. And then you came, Eragon. You and Saphira. After hope had deserted me and I was about to be taken to Galbatorix in Uru'baen, a Rider appeared to rescue me. A rider and a dragon! And Morzan's son, he said. Both of Morzan's sons. Describe it how you will, it was such an improbable rescue, I occasionally think that I did go mad and that I've imagined everything since.

I crawled through space and time, a worm inching through a labyrinth built by the dreams of a mad god. This I learned, meatbag, this and nothing more: when air, food, and shelter are assured, only two things matter. Work and companionship. To be alone and without purpose is to be the living dead.

Each of us has a terrorist inside, a mad impulse to abandon that which is rightfully ours, to blow ourselves to smithereens. You cannot outsmart it, for it has hijacked the mind that you use. It believes it is you; you believe you are it.

Perhaps I am as mad and impetuous as they say.

Veterinary arts?" Jane asked with a gasp. "Lucy, you must be mad." "I assure you I've all my wits about me," Lucy Abbington answered with a frown. No, she wasn't mad, but her life was about to change—dramatically. She'd long since recognized this as the truth, ever since her father had packed her