Quotes About Mad

Press close, bare-bosomed Night! Press close, magnetic, nourishing Night! Night of south winds! Night of the large, few stars! Still, nodding Night! Mad, naked, Summer Night! from Strophe 21, Song of Myself

I destroyed that doll, hoping the sacrifice would somehow reverse time and bring my father back. I was a mad scientist and an angry child.

Ah, Hollywood. One day, you and I will play Operation. And I'll be the drunk, mad doctor with the hedge trimmer & you will wear the straps

Do you feel blame? Are you mad? Uh, do you feel like wolf kabob Roth vantage? Gefrannis booj pooch boo jujube; bear-ramage. Jigiji geeji geeja geeble Google. Begep flagaggle vaggle veditch-waggle bagga?

Like the famous mad philosopher said, when you stare into the void, the void stares also; but if you cast into the void, you get a type conversion error. (Which just goes to show Nietzsche wasn't a C++ programmer.)

If you create something that is asking for people to respond as they're going to respond, you have to allow them to respond as they're going to respond. Some of the people are going to be uninterested and some people are going to be mad for some reason, which is their business. That's just the way the world is.

I can't promise not to make you mad. I can't promise that I won't hurt you. All I can promise is that I want you in my life, and I'll do anything to keep you there.

Press close, bare-bosomed Night! Press close, magnetic, nourishing Night! Night of south winds! Night of the large few stars! Still, nodding night! Mad, naked, Summer Night!

Criminal Minds, Bad Moon on the Rise: "It is the very error of the moon; she comes more nearer earth than she was wont, and makes men mad."

She could not be princess by wealth or standing. So she was mad to have learning whereon to pride herself. For she was different from other folk, and must not be scooped up among the common fry.

I had a teacher once, grade school somewhere. Philippines, I think, because she always wore a big white hat. So it was somewhere hot. I was always twice the size of the other kids, and she used to say to me: count to ten before you get mad, Reacher. And I've counted way past ten on this one. Way past.

You can't be mad at me," Ranger said. "I'm cute. I might even be adorable.

Yeah, Peckham's a mad place. Unpredictable. You don't know what's going to happen throughout the day or the night. Today in the morning everything's cool. In the afternoon you're in mad beef. It's just normal isn't it? It's cool for us.

You don't like it when a French housewife gets mad at you. If she gets steam behind her, she is an unstoppable creature.

Eccentricity is usually owned by middle-class and upper-class people. If you are working class and eccentric, then you're just mad.

You get those hunger pains. 'I am so hungry. We don't have any food. What are we going to eat?' Your stomach hurts. Then you get so upset and mad, like, no food. You start having tantrums and don't want to do anything. You get mad at everybody because you don't have any food. That's what happens when you don't eat. You are so sluggish.

Work is my norm. I have mad energy, insane energy, a kind of stamina in terms of work that's a little crazy.

I've always been a reserved cat. When I play sports, there's people used to get mad at me because I didn't hang out and things like that. I've never been that kind of person. Nothing has changed in that regard. I've never been posse, and all that. I'm a quiet storm.

Never trust a narrator whose opening gambit is to insist he's not mad.

To call an artist morbid because he deals with morbidity as his subject-matter is as silly as if one called Shakespeare mad because he wrote 'King Lear.

As I lounged in the Park, or strolled down Piccadilly, I used to look at everyone who passed me, and wonder, with mad curiosity, what sort of lives they led. some of them fascinated me. Others filled me with terror.

Let's worry like mad. Shall we start on a worldwide basis and work down to ourselves, or start with ourselves and spread? I'm going to do me-and-Peter and that dead man. All right. I'm just going to do a wee one about Bunny and then I'll join you. Always creeping around telling tales and stealing people's tights! How can anyone be that scrofulous and live? Now if somebody bumped him off, that would make sense.

The Chinese poet George Wu ... recorded on his comlog: Poets are the mad midwives to reality. They see not what is, nor what can be, but what must become. Later, on his last disk to his lover the week before he died, Wu said: Words are the only bullets in truth's bandolier. And poets are the snipers.

Poets are the mad midwives to reality. They see not what is, nor what can be, but what must become." Later, on his last disk to his lover the week before he died, Wu said: "Words are the only bullets in truth's bandolier. And poets are the snipers.