Best 4396 quotes in «crazy quotes» category

Believing that you’ve found true love is as crazy as being certain the lottery ticket you’ve just bought is definitely going to be the winner. You can be as certain as you want; it doesn’t change anything.

Betrayal is too kind a word to describe a situation in which a father says he loves his daughter but claims he must teach her about the horrors of the world in order to make her a stronger person; a situation in which he watches or participates in rituals that make her feel like she is going to die. She experiences pain that is so intense that she cannot think; her head spins so fast she can't remember who she is or how she got there. All she knows is pain. All she feels is desperation. She tries to cry out for help, but soon learns that no one will listen. No matter how loud she cries, she can't stop or change what is happening. No matter what she does, the pain will not stop. Her father orders her to be tortured and tells her it is for her own good. He tells her that she needs the discipline, or that she has asked for it by her misbehavior. Betrayal is too simple a word to describe the overwhelming pain, the overwhelming loneliness and isolation this child experiences. As if the abuse during the rituals were not enough, this child experiences similar abuse at home on a daily basis. When she tries to talk about her pain, she is told that she must be crazy. "Nothing bad has happened to you;' her family tells her Each day she begins to feel more and more like she doesn't know what is real. She stops trusting her own feelings because no one else acknowledges them or hears her agony. Soon the pain becomes too great. She learns not to feel at all. This strong, lonely, desperate child learns to give up the senses that make all people feel alive. She begins to feel dead. She wishes she were dead. For her there is no way out. She soon learns there is no hope. As she grows older she gets stronger. She learns to do what she is told with the utmost compliance. She forgets everything she has ever wanted. The pain still lurks, but it's easier to pretend it's not there than to acknowledge the horrors she has buried in the deepest parts of her mind. Her relationships are overwhelmed by the power of her emotions. She reaches out for help, but never seems to find what she is looking for The pain gets worse. The loneliness sets in. When the feelings return, she is overcome with panic, pain, and desperation. She is convinced she is going to die. Yet, when she looks around her she sees nothing that should make her feel so bad. Deep inside she knows something is very, very wrong, but she doesn't remember anything. She thinks, "Maybe I am crazy.

Boredom is a lack of crazy. Its a lack of creativity. Invention. Innovation. If you're bored, blame yourself.

But before I go, I will say this. Yes, my brothers are extreme, but I like them that way. Besides, there aren’t that many men in the universe who would kick down a League prison door, raid an assassin base camp, or start an intergalactic war to protect their spouses. Bat-shit crazy works for us.

But here's the thing about crazy: It. Wants. Out.

But if you start talking to ghosts and so on in front of other people, they think you're a liar or just showing off. That's if you're lucky. If you aren't, which is most of the time, they think you're totally crazy.

But Jack doesn't cry. Maybe.

But when you say crazy, that describes very well what the general appearance may be to ordinary, everyday people.

But you are crazy.” “I know.” She lifted a small box from the basket. “Do you know how I know?” Scarlet didn't answer. “Because the palace walls have been bleeding for years, and no one else sees it.” She shrugged, as if this were a perfectly normal thing to say. “No one believes me, but in some corridors, the blood has gotten so thick there's nowhere safe to step. When I have to pass through those places, I leave a trail of bloody footprints for the rest of the day, and then I worry that the queen's soldiers will follow the scent and eat me up while I'm sleeping. Some nights I don't sleep very well.” Her voice dropped to a haunted whisper, her eyes taking on a brittle luminescence. “But if the blood was real, the servants would clean it up. Don't you think?

Call me crazy and you would be right.

cause we don't hide, We parade our pride!

Carefreeness is crazy shit... nudity and nakecrossity...

Charlotte wondered if she would have recognized the crazy much earlier if he looked more like Steve Buscemi then Mr. Medieval Hotness.

Cole gets up and then says, “Adam. Five texts. I can read them to you.” He pauses. “Unless they’re personal.” I roll my eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m pretty sure he’s desperately in love with my sister.” Cole snorts. “He’s crazy.” “He’d have to be, right?

Cheryl was aided in her search by the Internet. Each time she remembered a name that seemed to be important in her life, she tried to look up that person on the World Wide Web. The names and pictures Cheryl found were at once familiar and yet not part of her conscious memory: Dr. Sidney Gottlieb, Dr. Louis 'Jolly' West, Dr. Ewen Cameron, Dr. Martin Orne and others had information by and about them on the Web. Soon, she began looking up sites related to childhood incest and found that some of the survivor sites mentioned the same names, though in the context of experiments performed on small children. Again, some names were familiar. Then Cheryl began remembering what turned out to be triggers from old programmes. 'The song, "The Green, Green Grass of home" kept running through my mind. I remembered that my father sang it as well. It all made no sense until I remembered that the last line of the song tells of being buried six feet under that green, green grass. Suddenly, it came to me that this was a suicide programme of the government. 'I went crazy. I felt that my body would explode unless I released some of the pressure I felt within, so I grabbed a [pair ofl scissors and cut myself with the blade so I bled. In my distracted state, I was certain that the bleeding would let the pressure out. I didn't know Lynn had felt the same way years earlier. I just knew I had to do it Cheryl says. She had some barbiturates and other medicine in the house. 'One particularly despondent night, I took several pills. It wasn't exactly a suicide try, though the pills could have killed me. Instead, I kept thinking that I would give myself a fifty-fifty chance of waking up the next morning. Maybe the pills would kill me. Maybe the dose would not be lethal. It was all up to God. I began taking pills each night. Each-morning I kept awakening.

Come Hell or High Water" usually depends on the kind of plug you use in the bath tub

Crazy always feels right, but that doesn't mean it ain't wrong.

Congratulations, everyone," I announce as I open the door to Noam's study. "You've finally broken Meira, the crazy, orphaned soldier-girl. She's snapped, all thanks to the mention of floral arrangements.

Crazy people don't know they're crazy. I know I'm crazy, therefore I'm not crazy, isn't that crazy?

Crazy and insane are words used throughout history to describe people and ideas that are simply different.

Crazy Horse dreamed and went into the world where there is nothing but the spirits of all things. That is the real world that is behind this one, and everything we see here is something like a shadow from that one.

Crazy must run in your family,” he says. “You do know Fia!” I blurt, then bite my lip.

Crazy was better than in love. You could walk away from crazy without regrets.

Crazy is such a misunderstood term. I like to think that I march to the beat of my own drummer.

Crazy? Of course you’re crazy. We’re all crazy!

Creativity is all about CRAZY-tivity!

Crying baptizes the cheeks; Too full of a crazy love. (Les pleurs baptisent les joues; Trop plein d'un amour fou)

Crazy people. They never think they're crazy. Their craziness makes perfect sense to them.

Day had gotten a little nervous during one session when the doctor asked God how he would handle someone hurting Day now and his lover responded by jerking one side of his leather coat open and pulling his long blade from its sheathe. “Easy, I’d cut their fucking arm off and beat the shit out of them with it,” he’d said. But Day quickly started laughing and told the concerned doctor that his partner was just playing. After popping God hard in his stomach, God agreed and said he was indeed joking. When the doctor went back to writing on her legal pad, God mouthed to him, “No I’m not.

David was the sort of man that he would follow into the very fires of Hell. The crazy thing was it almost felt like they were already there.

Discovery comes from a lot of failures, knowledge, wisdom, faith, and a dose of craziness.

Don't open the door to strangers," said her dad. "Unless they're selling something. Then open the door and see if I'd like it. If I'd like it, buy it for me. But nothing cheap. I have standards. Nothing too expensive, either. My standards aren't that high.

Does that new man in your life call his ex "a slut", "a whore", "a bitch", "psycho" , "crazy", "a nutter" etc etc. Chances are, whatever he's calling his ex right now, he'll be calling you when things don't go his way. Be warned.

Do not get mad, get science.

Don't make fun of me!" Ender said. "I'm afraid I'm going crazy.

Don’t worry, Miss Brielle. To be honest, the ones with a little bit of crazy have always been my favorite.

Eccentric is a nice word to replace 'weird' and 'crazy', which you can use when you really like someone.

Do you know why they call this place the Rookery?" Elodin asked. I shook my head. "Because it's where you go if you're a-ravin'." He smiled a wild smile. He laughed a terrible laugh.

Don't you wish we all lived in black light.... for one thing, it would mean an end to toothpaste as we know it

Do you have any idea how mad you sound?’ ‘Indeed I do. I have in moments of doubt considered the question of my sanity.’ (...) ‘And?’ ‘Then I consider what a piece of work is man. How defective in reason, how mean his facilities, how ugly in form and movement, in action how like a devil, in apprehension how like a cow. The beauty of the world? The paragon of animals? To me the quintessence of dust.

Everyone's crazy, but few show it.

Everyone in this world is nuts, the difference is some of them just really good at disguising it.

Even greater than my fear that l was crazy, was my lifelong dread that someone would find out.

Everyone here is insane. I am the insanest of the insane.

Every single person is a fool, insane, a failure, or a bad person to at least ten people.

Evolution could be true. Apes lick their nuts. Religious nuts do too.

Every time you feel like mocking a person you disagree with politically by implying that they are mentally ill, I want you to instead imagine you are talking to every single person who actually is mentally ill and telling them they are worthless. That's how it makes mentally ill people feel. Doesn't seem very progressive now does it?

Gods must be crazy Flowers must be daisy Clouds must be hazy Winds must be lazy What else it could be… My heart must be in love lately…

Feel the pain. Feel the pleasure. As long as I’m living, I will enjoy every experience that I can. Happiness, glee, passion, peace, fear, pain, I want to feel it all, good or bad. I want to live, not in monotony, in utter craziness. I’m living not dying.

For a writer, it seems a help rather than a hindrance to be at least a little crazy. Who but a crazy person would carve out a very private, quiet place in the world, only to pour his/her innermost thoughts and emotions onto a page for the entire world to examine? Even in fiction, we give a map to our most secret feelings. Why do writers do it? Perhaps because we'd be crazier still if we didn't.