Quotes About Madness

He follows his own way these days, even more than most of us. 'Twas as goof a description of madness as any I've heard.

Manie sans délire - insanity without delusion.

The more you love her, the crazier you get. My love was great. My crimes were greater.

His eyes look too bright, the way the do in people who are in love, people who are enraged, and people who are completely bonkers.

She thought of the grainy video of him she had seen, head tipped back, so covered in blood that she hadn't remembered his features, hadn't remembered him as looking like anything but a monster, laughing, endlessly laughing. Mad as a dog. Mad as a god.

He just looked like a pretty boy, tall and lanky. She thought again of the crumpled paper in her purse and of him, caged beneath a cemetery. How long had he been there? How long had he looked just as he did now? A hundred years? Two hundred? Could he even remember the press of time? Maybe having stepped outside of it would drive anybody crazy.

Fine, fine, everyone's fine," said the vampire, a mad gleam in his red eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as Bela Lugosi did in black-and-white films. "Fine as scattered pieces of sand." She wondered how much effort it had taken him to talk to her the way he had—to, what was it he'd said? Keeping my thoughts clearly ordered—and how crazy he was going to be now, as a result of that strain.

The Thorn of Istra, the mad vampire. She thought of the grainy video of him she had seen, head tipped back, so covered in blood that she hadn't remembered his features, hadn't remembered him as looking like anything but a monster, laughing, endlessly laughing. Mad as a dog. Mad as a god. Gavriel.

When I look at her, I am filled with the same hate and fear that paralyzed me throughout my childhood. And yet, there is fresh madness in her yellow eyes. She is not the same as she was when I saw her last. And disturbingly, I see myself in her. Resentful, and trapped, and full of thwarted desire. The worst parts of me, and all my worst potential.

Despite the deep pits that lead to oubliettes, the trees that move to make you lose your way, the ice spiders that wrap their prey in frozen gossamer, the mad king, and the curse.

There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover's whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad.

Beauty is the greatest of human powers. All autocratic, unbridled power, with nothing to counterbalance it, leads to abuse, to mad excess. Despotism is power gone mad. In women, despotism takes the form of satisfying their whims.

How inexplicable Parisian women are!" exclaimed Thaddeus. "When they are loved to madness they want to be loved reasonably: and when they are loved reasonably they reproach a man for not loving them at all.

Compulsion: one of those solid respectable psychological-sounding words to nicely wrap the truth: she was as mad as a hatter, as crazy as a bedbug. Oh,

She wondered if she was going mad. It felt like a decision she could make. One small step over an invisible line and she could choose lunacy.

Yeah, I'm so crazy. Although probably that was evidence of her lack of craziness. Truly crazy people were too busy being crazy to think about it.

contemporary mad activist Erick Fabris contends that the introduction, and enforcement, of psychiatric drugs acted as a form of literal (not figurative) chemical incarceration that enabled populations that were deemed dangerous to live outside of an institution. These forms of chemical incarceration do not signal the liberation of the mad but their increased surveillance by other means—what I have termed carceral sanism.

Vailala Madness

I'm telling you, the lunatics are really running the asylum when it comes to the criminal courts

Conquest is the symptom of a craze.

I think you're all mad. But that's part and parcel of being an artistic genius, isn't it?

You sweet…beautiful…lunatic," he heard himself mutter.

I've heard that hat making drives people mad," Pandora remarked. "Which I don't understand, because it doesn't seem tedious enough to do that." "It isn't the job that drives them mad," West said. "It's the mercury solution they use to smooth the felt. After repeated exposure, it addles the brain. Hence the term 'mad as a hatter.

Let me be accurate in everything, for though you and I have seen some strange things together, you may at the first think that I, Van Helsing, am mad. That the many horrors and the so long strain on nerves has at the last turn my brain.