Best 4396 quotes in «crazy quotes» category

I was a really good waitress. Waitressing takes a certain gusto. You need a good memory and an ability to connect with people fast. You have to learn how to treat the kitchen as well as you treat the customers. You have to figure out which crazy people to listen to and which crazy people to ignore. I loved waiting tables because when you cashed out at the end of the night your job was truly over. You wiped down your section and paid out your busboy and you knew your work was done.

I was determined to stay off the see-saw of crazy

I was extremely worried. What would happen to me now that they knew that I had lost my mind? Would they put me in a padded cell and feed me through a hatch door? Would I end up in one of those places that you hear about, where people go in but never come out?

I was much crazier than I had imagined. Or maybe it was a bad idea to read DSM-IV when you're not a trained professional. Or maybe the American Psychiatric Association had a crazy desire to label all life a mental disorder.

I was nineteen. You had your lips on my neck and whispers in my ear. You drove me crazy. But I mistook crazy for absolute happiness.

I was now privy to how a calm, average , peace-loving individual can suddenly get infected with a special kind of crazy. Higher reasoning is replaced with killer animal instincts.

I was shocked and terrified to hear Dr. Summer say I had what was formerly known as multiple personality disorder. Is that like Sybil? Am I like the woman in The Three Faces of Eve? My head began to spin. What do I have inside of me? Is there a crazy person in there? What am I? I felt like a freak. I was afraid to have anyone know. I have a mental illness. People make fun of people like me. Upon hearing my diagnosis, I stopped thinking of myself as smart, creative, or clever. Even though Dr. Summer had worked hard to help me understand that I had developed an amazingly adaptive survival technique, I no longer thought of it that way at all. I was overwhelmed by fear and shame. The words multiple personality disorder echoed in my mind. I thought of all the ways people with multiple personalities were ridiculed and marginalized: They're locked away in mental institutions. They are really sick. I'm not going to be the subject of people's jokes. I am a lawyer. I work at the U.S. Department of Justice. The more I thought about it, the deeper my despair grew.

I was told I have obsessive behavioral traits. I looked up everything to do with obsession after that.

I was walking around in an almost blind, crazy rage of madness. There was a story burning a hole in my brain, and it was dying to come out on paper. It was begging of me to create it, but I didn’t know where to begin. A month after giving birth to the idea, I felt like I was losing my mind. Ideas would pop into my head in the middle of the night, or during a midterm, and I missed them, quite narrowly, almost every time. Every time an idea left my mind without taking the shape of a word on paper, my mind would automatically begin to churn something just as impressive, or at least close to it. I was digging myself into a shallow grave, and I was getting nowhere. And this was even before the thoughts were committed to paper.

I will drive the world crazy with love poems for you. So they can know how magnificent you are and how crazy I am.

I wished for death," he whispered, and the words took the smile from both our lips. His gaze met mine again, this time it was earnest and beseeching. "I knew I could not leave you behind, so I planned to kill you first. I could not. I sat here with the pistol at your head for a long time. I thought of...how much you loved me, that you would make such a request, and...I could not. So I am chained here in this life, with you." He shook his head quickly. "Non, that did not sound as it should. I...will not betray you by leaving you alone, and I cannot take you with me, so I will remain, because I love you.

I wondered whether I had gone insane. If so, I thought, then this is what it feels like; I would never have guessed the world would still appear so sharp and vivid, the streets the same, the clouds the same, nothing different except your mind has come unhinged, its cogs whirling loose and wild and hazardous.

Live by yourself and you bound to talk yourself and when ye commence that folks start it up that you're light in the head. But I reckon it's all right to talk to a dog since most folks do even if a dog don't understand and cain't answer if he did.

Love like crazy.

Loving someone is sticking a pin through a voodoo doll and not hitting any vital organs

Loving you was hard, wanting you was harder, but kissing your forehead was insanity.

Maybe he’s normal and we’re the crazy ones. Maybe everyone should talk to themselves. Maybe we’re all just afraid of what we’d say.

Many people hear voices when no one is there. Some of them are called mad and are shut up in rooms where they stare at the walls all day. Others are called writers and they do pretty much the same thing.

Maybe he's up to something, maybe he'ś not really crazy after all. Perhaps he just got fed up acting normal and decided to act crazy instead, and they locked him up because he went too far.

Maybe he was not quite what he seemed to be…handsome, brilliant, and…. Crazy? Like the Roman Emperors Caligula and Nero? - Amazon Lee and the Ancient Undead of Rome by Kira G. and Kailin Gow

Margaret is the most beautiful woman I've laid eyes on. The men in this county must be crazy not to see that.

Maybe you shake your head, but let me learn a lesson right now: plenty knowledge is in this world. Enough knowledge that you can pick and refuse. And if you want, you can refuse to know plenty things, don't care how true those things be. I know things you does not know, and things you will never know. And it is sake of that - sake of this knowledge - that people have looked on me and called me old fool or crazy. They treat me like I is retarded. Imagine that. I is the idiot because I know what they don't know.

Most people put off my mother's erratic behavior to the fact that she was a writer, as if that just explained everything. To me that was just an excuse. I mean, brain surgeons can be crazy too, but no one says that's all right. Fortunately for my mother, I am alone in this opinion.

Mentally ill, insane, mad, crazy, ludicrous, mentally unstable....

Most killers have pretty average lifestyles. Steady jobs too. Sometimes they're even living the family life-white picket fence and a four-door sedan. That's what makes them so scary. They act human and they slot into society and since a young age they've known how to hide the crazy; they put it up on a shelf and only bring it out on special occasions.

Mental health sufferers are not crazy. They have special insight. You better recognize that setting aside your interest people to stay asleep and show empathy towards God's imperfect creations, otherwise the world has no meaning to exist.

Mind is basically the beginning of madness. And if you are too much in it, it will drive you mad. Mind has no certainity about anything. If you are betweeen two polarities of the mind,in a limbo--always to do or not to do,you will go crazy. You are crazy! Before it happens,jump out and have a look from outside at the mind. Mind is basically indecisive and awareness is basically decisive.So any act of awareness is total,full without repentance.

Minds that have withered into psychosis are far more terrifying than any character of fiction.

Most people think Marv is crazy, but I don't believe that. I'm no shrink and I'm not saying I've got Marv all figured out or anything, but "crazy" just doesn't explain him. Not to me. Sometimes I think he's retarded, a big, brutal kid who never learned the ground rules about how people are supposed to act around each other. But that doesn't have the right ring to it either. No, it's more like there's nothing wrong with Marv, nothing at all--except that he had the rotten luck of being born at the wrong time in history. He'd have been okay if he'd been born a couple of thousand years ago. He'd be right at home on some ancient battlefield, swinging an ax into somebody's face. Or in a roman arena, taking a sword to other gladiators like him. They'd have tossed him girls like Nancy, back then.

My bones always crack. Sometimes, I like to imagine that one day, my back will split open, and beautiful wings will emerge.

My family and I have always supported Asian and Asian Americans, especially our fellow authors and artists. I just found out my Crazy Rich Asian cousin bought out some theaters to support the Crazy Rich Asians film. Talk about crazy! - The Asian American Experience Anthology by Kailin Gow

My father had a healthy disregard for social conventions: he once let me paint the house windows in rainbows with my watercolor set, to my mother's horror, and he'd clap for trees that he thought were doing a good job of exploding into red during the fall.

My father never was a famous guy, he was just a person which made a lot of mistakes. But the suicide wasn't the best path, the best choice it was a way which could be skipped by using something else, by doing something else. But the question is why did he do it? To make mad and crazy the daughter of his ladylove??

My father some times he goes crazy, but sometimes nerves, crazy and mad in one place it's like daemon have started to control his life so he ended his life.

Når jeg så prøvede på at forstå, hvad der skete, lykkedes det mig aldrig, fordi jeg havde visket ‘forbudt af mor’, ‘forstødt af mor’, ud og skrevet ‘skyldig’, ‘gal’ i stedet for. Jeg var gal, det var den eneste forklaring, jeg kunne give på det.

My mind is being consumed by you. My body is longing for you. Just one touch or a kiss, And I shall be satiated for a thousand years.

My longest relationship in life was with Insanity.

Niemand hat je gesagt, dass das Universum normal ist.

Nope. She was out of her mind, and I was out of here before I got dragged along on her crazy train.

No, I don't have psychic powers, Declan. That'd be crazy.

No, I wasn’t going to think about that. I didn’t think about it through the long hours of flight. I didn’t think about it as the sun came up – finally – on the horizon, bathing me in gold and hope. I didn’t think of it when Hubric signaled a weary stop and we landed exhaustedly next to a pond in a rolling field of grass. Stop thinking about it. Seriously. You’re driving me crazy. But honestly, how did you stop thinking about something like that? I’d been so close to having something I’d wanted all my life. I’d been so close to getting what I didn’t even believe was possible.

¡No renuncies jamás a tus sueños, los cuerdos nada saben del sueño admirable de un loco!

Not all writers are crazy. Only the ones who are serious enough about their craft.

Note: When they say you're ridiculous, you know you're onto something.

Nothing inspires me greater than the silly behaviour and crazy ideas of my best friends...

No, he is not vicious, nor is he in the least demented. His mind is a wonder chamber, from which he can extract treasures that you and I would give years of our life to acquire.

None of us ate together: my Aunt Gladys ate at five o’clock, my cousin Susan at five-thirty, me at six, and my uncle at six-thirty. There is nothing to explain this beyond the fact that my aunt is crazy.

Not a very pretty world, is it?" "Which one?

Now to tell ya about our fellow inmates. Pay attention because there are a bunch of us an’ we each have a story.

Now because 18 months ago the first dawn, 3 months ago broad daylight but a very few days ago the full sun of the most highly remarkable spectacle has risen — nothing holds me back. I can give myself up to the sacred frenzy, I can have the insolence to make a full confession to mortal men that I have stolen the golden vessel of the Egyptians to make from them a tabernacle for my God far from the confines of the land of Egypt. If you forgive me I shall rejoice; if you are angry, I shall bear it; I am indeed casting the die and writing the book, either for my contemporaries or for posterity to read, it matters not which: let the book await its reader for a hundred years; God himself has waited six thousand years for his work to be seen.