Quotes About Madness

I knew it was stupid, knew I would probably die if I went again, but we were warriors and warriors will not be beaten. It is reputation. It is pride. It is the madness of battle. I began beating Serpent-Breath against my half-broken shield, and other men took up the rhythm, and the Danes, so close, were inviting us to come and be killed, and I shouted that we were coming.

If Joan was mad, all Christendom was mad too; for people who believe devoutly in the existence of celestial personages are every whit as mad as the people who think they see them. Luther, when he threw his inkhorn at the devil, was no more mad than any other Augustinian monk: he had a more vivid imagination, and hd perhaps eaten and slept less: that was all.

The lunatic who thinks he is a crowned head may be, in a sense, happy, but his happiness is not of a kind that any sane person would envy.

And I gave my heart to know wisdom, and to know madness and folly: I perceived that this also is vexation of spirit. For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.

The quarrel between Hume and Rousseau is symbolic: Rousseau was mad but influential; Hume was sane but had no followers.

It's odd that invoking the possibility of alien influences should itself be a sign of madness. I don't see the need for it to explain history on earth, but I can't see any reason why the universe shouldn't be full of life.

The amount of silliness that happens to me is insane.

My inbox and doormat are full with emails and letters from people who want me to endorse their Higgs board game or to inaugurate the walkway of their new office atrium. There's even a microbrewery in Barcelona which wants to know what my favourite beer is so they can brew a similar one in my honour. It is quite mad.

A child has no trouble believing the unbelievable, nor does the genius or the madman. It's only you and I, with our big brains and our tiny hearts, who doubt and overthink and hesitate. Don't think. Act.

A child has no trouble believing the unbelievable, nor does the genius or the madman.

You're proud of your ability to both believe and question everything. Secretly you think everyone does, but at some point they give in, surrender to the comfort of certainty. It's too much trouble, this endless jousting of belief and doubt, too tiring. Finally you suppose it will break you, yet strangely it's the only thing that keeps you going - though, true, at times you feel unbalanced, even somewhat mad.

Then there's the whole world of sports madness where billionaire owners somehow manage to get regular taxpayers to underwrite the cost of new stadiums that are basically a license to print money for the monopoly-protected owners.

That party has now been transformed into Russian apologists, more concerned with defending Donald Trump than defending the country. It's madness.

Needless to say, in a country where nothing makes sense only crazy acts do.

I felt like I'd unzipped my skin and momentarily stepped out of it, leaving a crazy person in charge

I dream endlessly, my minstrel,' he said. 'I live in my dreams - they are the only thing this emptiness has not touched. Oh sometimes they are black and dreadful, nightmares from the pit. ... But most of them are wonderful, full of happiness and lost joy, and delight in making and being. Without my dreams, I should have gone mad long ago.' 'Ah,' Gwion said wryly, 'that is true of many men in this world.

I was frightened of myself, I seemed to have no control over my thoughts and feelings, it was like a sort of madness...

If one really stopped to think about the insane way the universe is arranged one would go mad in no time, so now and then it's good to laugh, it's therapeutic, it dilutes the pain

Mad people = People who stand alone and burn. I'm attracted to them because they give me permission to do the same.

You mean to say he became mad deliberately?' ...Nothing is more likely,' said the duke.

He had discovered that it was easier – far easier than any one could have supposed – to make oneself mad, but like all magic it was full of obstacles and frustrations. Even if he succeeded in summoning the fairy (which did not seem very likely), he would be in no condition to talk to him. Every book he had ever read on the subject urged magicians to be on their guard when dealing with fairies. Just when he needed all his wits, he would have scarcely any wits at all.

In his madness and his blindness he was Lear and Gloucester combined.

We all go a little mad sometimes. Haven't you?

Maybe no one's really crazy. Everyone is just a little bit mad. How much depends on where you fall in the spectrum. How much depends on how lucky you are.