Best 280 quotes in «sanity quotes» category

Our sense of worth, of well-being, even our sanity depends upon our remembering. But, alas, our sense of worth, our well-being, our sanity also depend upon our forgetting.

Sanity’s a virginity of the mind

Sanity - a trick of agreement

Sanity is sometimes a matter of going on, outwardly, as if everything is all right.

Sanity -- that is the great virtue of the ancient literature; the want of that is the great defect of the modern, in spite of its variety and power.

Some of us are returning to sanity, because we're tired of the pain. We're in a hurry. No time to mess around.

Sweat is my sanity. During the campaign, the days never went as well if I couldn't get out there and sweat.

The human mind, if it is to keep its sanity, must maintain the nicest balance between unity and plurality.

The ability to take pride in your own work is one of the hallmarks of sanity.

This was the door to both sustenance and sanity. And we were each other's key.

Sheree Conrad and Michael Milburn bring a much-needed sanity to that confusing and unruly terrain, our sexual lives/

There is a madness, yes, this is true. Few mortals possess it, the willingness to step away from the protection of sanity. To walk into the wild wood of madness...

The truth is like a lion; you don’t have to defend it. Let it loose; it will defend itself.

You've got to have a sense of humor to keep your sanity.

Why don't you make a contibution to my sanity, and do the one thing you never seem to be able to do... SHUT UP!!!

We`re going to put sanity back into the White House.

Where's your sense of adventure?" "Off on a beach somewhere with your sanity?

You should listen to your heart, and not the voices in your head.

You would not make the act of submission which is the price of sanity.

27. So often, we go through our battles in private. As it was with me and with many of the women in my generation. We were taught and reared and molded to keep that stiff upper lip and to never explain in public how deeply some people have hurt us. I cannot get away from that mold. I am comfortable in it. I derive my sanity from it.

Almost everything that will be said or done by someone who is suspected of being insane will seem to confirm that suspicion.

All sanity depends on this: that it should be a delight to feel the roughness of a carpet under smooth soles, a delight to feel heat strike the skin, a delight to stand upright, knowing the bones are moving easily under the flesh.

A difference between the sane and the insane is not just about appearance or attitude but the usage of time.

All my means are sane, my motive and my object mad.

Almost every sane person is at least two different people.

Am I sure of what I am searching?’ Of course not, but one has to live with an illusion that we are searching for something with which people can relate and not mistake us for being crazy and thereby proof of our sanity to the world.

A more fundamental problem with labelling human distress and deviance as mental disorder is that it reduces a complex, important, and distinct part of human life to nothing more than a biological illness or defect, not to be processed or understood, or in some cases even embraced, but to be ‘treated’ and ‘cured’ by any means possible—often with drugs that may be doing much more harm than good. This biological reductiveness, along with the stigma that it attracts, shapes the person’s interpretation and experience of his distress or deviance, and, ultimately, his relation to himself, to others, and to the world. Moreover, to call out every difference and deviance as mental disorder is also to circumscribe normality and define sanity, not as tranquillity or possibility, which are the products of the wisdom that is being denied, but as conformity, placidity, and a kind of mediocrity.

And what would they find on sale? His sanity? Could be. Half-Price. Smoke and Water Damage. Everything Must Go.

Any man who neglects his conscience is a dangerous animal.

Are not the sane and the insane equal at night as the sane lie a dreaming?

As long as she could remember who she was, she was okay. She wouldn't go crazy. At least not today.

Are the fae ever sane? We live in a world that isn't there half the time. We claim that windmills are giants, and because we say it, it's true. Our lives become myth and legend, until even we can't tell what we truly are from what we're told we ought to be. How can we live that way and be considered sane? My lord was never sane, but he was my love once. He always will be, somewhere. Wherever it is that the once upon a times go when they die.

Ariella was silent, and I reached out to take her hand, squeezing as if it were a lifeline, holding me to sanity.

A sane man is at his sanest just after he has orgasmed.

A society, on occasion, can be the worst possible describer of mental health.

As we all know, as if forever exploiting or attempting to exploit each other were not enough, a group of sane human beings who have just reached the end of a war against a common enemy of theirs will sooner or later start or continue killing and/or fighting against each other.

At present nothing is possible except to extend the area of sanity little by little. We cannot act collectively. We can only spread our knowledge outwards from individual to individual, generation after generation.

At present I would prefer not to be a little reasonable,' was his mildly cadaverous reply.

At the edge you will always remember me, at the edge you will last be remembered, where sanity and insanity come together, for the time, then separates. Like leaves on October trees, that color the world, but for a moment, then leave. At the edge, where life losses its edginess, and thoughts we will become one, someday. At the edge the sun drops, the ring falls, and senses of raindrops climb upwards to the gray sky.

Being bored is the price we pay for not being insane.

Being surrounded with every conceivable kind of revolt from infancy, Gabriel had to revolt into something, so he revolted into the only thing left — sanity. But there was just enough in him of the blood of these fanatics to make even his protest for common sense a little too fierce to be sensible.

Bill Hodges is her touchstone, the way she measures her ability to interact with the world. Which is only another way of saying that he is the way she measures her sanity. Trying to imagine her life with him gone is like standing on top of a skyscraper and looking at the sidewalk sixty stories below.

Beware of the games people play with your sanity.

Much Madness Is Divinest Sense Much Madness is divinest Sense — To a discerning Eye — Much Sense — the starkest Madness — 'Tis the Majority In this, as All, prevail — Assent — and you are sane — Demur — you're straightway dangerous — And handled with a Chain —

Blood and wine are interchangeable. Love and hate are unrecognizable. Sanity is no longer with me.

But I cannot be worrying-worrying all the time about the truth. I have to worry about the truth that can be lived with. And that is the difference between losing your marbles drinking the salty sea, or swallowing the stuff from the streams. My Niece-of-Shame believes in the talking cure, eh?" says Alsana, with something of a grin. "Talk, talk, talk and it will be better. Be honest, slice open your heart and spread the red stuff around. But the past is made of more than words, dearie. We married old men, you see? These bumps"--Alsana pats them both --"they will always have daddy-long-legs for fathers. One leg in the present, one in the past. No talking will change this. Their roots will always be tangled. And roots get dug up. Just look in my garden - birds at the coriander every bloody day...

Boredom is probably more frequent and more tormenting if you do not have sight or hands.

But maybe that isn't possible. Maybe the mind of the majority is always the healthy mind, simply by virtue of its numbers. Maybe it's the definition of madness to believe I'm right and everyone else if wrong, to find my thoughts rational and reasonable when almost the entire world finds them damaged and flawed.

Christ," he said to the tiny reflection of himself that floated along the surface of his coffee, "You have become quite the maudlin sop, haven't you? Laughing softly, he rubbed a hand over his face. Step one on the road back to sanity, stop talking to yourself.

Conventions are, indeed, all that shield us from the shivering void, though often they do so but poorly and desperately.