Best 4396 quotes in «crazy quotes» category

The town isn't big enough for two homicidal maniacs.

The truth is crazier than lies because lies are required to stick to possibilities—the truth isn’t.

The United States is an easy country to love because you can take it on faith that, at some point in every waking hour of the day, there is among your fellow citizens a vast exaltation of opinions that test the outer boundaries of the Crazoid.

The word 'heresy' not only means no longer being wrong; it practically means being clear-headed and courageous. The word 'orthodoxy' not only no longer means being right; it practically means being wrong. All this can mean one thing, and one thing only. It means that people care less for whether they are philosophically right. For obviously a man ought to confess himself crazy before he confesses himself heretical.

The World is enough brutal don't make it mad and crazy more, so far I think that the adrenaline is on it's own full capacity.

They roared into the Lincoln Tunnel. A wild, inexplicable excitement mounted in Therese as she stared through the windshield. She wished the tunnel might cave in and kill them both, that their bodies might be dragged out together. She felt Carol glancing at her from time to time.

They say the crazies come out at night. I say the crazies come out during election year: Elections have the power to turn once seemingly normal people into certified loonies.

They tried to define her. Some called her perpetually enigmatic. Some said she was fucking crazy. I didn't matter to her what they called her. She knew she was Free.

Thinking without acting makes you a coward. Acting without thinking makes you insane. You need both the thoughts and actions; they never walk alone!

They will call you crazy once you stop living someone else’s dream and start living your own.

This is what we do. We do crazy shit because we're broken. That's who we are. That's what we do.

This is some crazy shit straight out of a Romero film.

This was exhausting. If she was going to make this kind of emotional investment in someone, he should at least be a proper boyfriend. But for a casual fling? She could drive herself crazy.

THIS IS WHY He will never be given to wonder much if he was the mouth for some cruel force that said it. But if he were (this will comfort her) less than one moment out of millions had he meant it. So many years and so many turns they had swerved around the subject. And he will swear for many more the kitchen and everything in it vanished -- the oak table, their guests, the refrigerator door he had been surely propped against-- all changed to rusted ironwork and ash except in the center in her linen caftan: she was not touched. He remembers the silence before he spoke and her nodding a little, as if in the meat of this gray waste here was the signal for him to speak what they had long agreed, what somewhere they had prepared together. And this one moment in the desert of ash stretches into forever. They had been having a dinner party. She had been lonely. A friend asked her almost joking if she had ever felt really crazy, and when she started to unwind her answer in long, lovely sentences like scarves within her he saw this was the way they could no longer talk together. And that is when he said it, in front of the guests, because he couldn't bear to hear her. And this is why the guests have left and she screams as he comes near her.

This supreme instance of Troy's goodness fell upon Gabriel's ears like the thirteenth stroke of a crazy clock.

Those who are crazy enough to think they can change the world usually do.

This was sharing office space with wacko and bordering on ludicrous.

To all the boys, for when you become men: you'll leave women all throughout your life because they're holding you back, and even after she's gone she'll still weigh you down. To all the women: stay away from us men. We don't know anything about you, despite what we try to convince you of.

Touch my song with your lips, make it immortal, be my beloved, make my love immortal. No restriction of age, not the bond of lives, when someone love should see only the soul, by carving new trend, make the trend immortal. Loneliness of the sky is in my lone heart, with rattleing paayal enter into my life, by giving own breaths make the music immortal make the music immortal, make my song immortal. World snatched from me, whatever was beloved to me, all won from me, I lost at every moment, by losing your heart you make my victory immortal. written By "Honthon Se Chhoo Lo Tum - Jagjit Singh

To be lazy is stupid, to be a muscle machine is a crazy thing... and how far we go or father we all the time can find disadvantages and it's own consequences.

To evade insanity and depression, we unconsciously limit the number of people toward whom we are sincerely sympathetic.

Too often the survivor is seen by [himself or] herself and others as "nuts," "crazy," or "weird." Unless her responses are understood within the context of trauma. A traumatic stress reaction consists of *natural* emotions and behaviors in response to a catastrophe, its immediate aftermath, or memories of it. These reactions can occur anytime after the trauma, even decades later. The coping strategies that victims use can be understood only within the context of the abuse of a child. The importance of context was made very clear many years ago when I was visiting the home of a Holocaust survivor. The woman's home was within the city limits of a large metropolitan area. Every time a police or ambulance siren sounded, she became terrified and ran and hid in a closet or under the bed. To put yourself in a closet at the sound of a far-off siren is strange behavior indeed—outside of the context of possibly being sent to a death camp. Within that context, it makes perfect sense. Unless we as therapists have a good grasp of the context of trauma, we run the risk of misunderstanding the symptoms our clients present and, hence, responding inappropriately or in damaging ways.

Treat life as a suicide mission, take on the impossible jobs and attack with the gusto of someone who has nothing to lose.... and when you revel in victory, make like it's a dirty win

Very gently Jacques lowered her feet to the ground, retaining possession of her waist to help her trembling legs hold her up. Shea raised a hand to push back her rain-slick hair. He caught her fingers and raised her palm to his mouth. “You are the most beautiful sight I have ever seen.” She smiled, shook her head at him. “You’re crazy, you know that? This is one of the most magnificent lightning storms I’ve ever seen, and I didn’t even notice until now.” He grinned at her suggestively, rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Says something.” “Exactly,” she agreed. “You’re crazy, and I must be, too.

True writers have multiple personalities. Every one of them is insane.

Trust me, I am nuts!

Try to look less conspicuous,” he instructed. A dog barked, rushed to the end of its lead, and bared its teeth. Gregori turned his head and hissed, exposing white fangs. The dog stopped its aggression instantly, yelped in alarm, and retreated whining. “What are you doing?” Savannah demanded, outraged. “Getting a feel for the place,” he said absently, his mind clearly on other matters, his senses tuned to the world around him. “Everyone is crazy here, Savannah. You are going to fit right in.” He ruffled her hair affectionately.

We are the craft of our towns.

We are all crazy enough to hear the voices but not strong enough to listen

We are never short of craziness

Watching someone die is never easy. I’ve been trying not to think about it. It’s crazy.

We all have memories with someone that makes us go crazy, makes us uncontrollably imagine what we could’ve been with them.

We do what we want; even when it seems crazy.

We're all crazy, I believe, just in different ways.

We live in a society where crazy is the new normal.

Well, they never know they're ill, do they? You can't diagnose yourself with the same organ that has the disease, just like you can't see your own eyeball. So, I suppose you just feel normal and the rest of the world seems to go crazy around you.

we're all freaks sometimes, Melody," he replied. "You're just... well, better at it than most.

We share out craziness, our neuroses, our little bit of screwed-up-ness that comes from our family. We share it. And it feels like love.

We would not be ashamed of doing some of the things we do in private, if the number of sane human beings who do them in public were large enough.

We've eaten, but he looks hungry, and experience tells me that crazy takes a lot of calories to sustain.

We were ready for crazy, but not that kind of crazy.

What daily life is like for “a multiple” Imagine that you have periods of “lost time.” You may find writings or drawings which you must have done, but do not remember producing. Perhaps you find child-sized clothing or toys in your home but have no children. You might also hear voices or babies crying in your head. Imagine that you can never predict when you will be able to have certain knowledge or social skills, and your emotions and your energy level seem to change at the drop of a hat, and for no apparent reason. You cannot understand why you feel what you feel, and, if you are in therapy, you cannot explore those feelings when asked. Your life feels disjointed and often confusing. It is a frightening experience. It feels out of control, and you probably think you are going crazy. That is what it is like to be multiple, and all of it is experienced by the ANPs. A multiple may also experience very concrete problems, even life-threatening ones.

What I've learnt - to my cost - on several occasions in my life, is that people will put up with all manner of bad behaviour so long as you're giving them what they want. They'll laugh and get into it and enjoy the anecdotes and the craziness and the mayhem as long as you're going your job well, but the minute you're not, you're fucked. They'll wipe their hands of you without a second glance.

What do you call falling when the world is standing upside down?

Whatever makes you crazy is what you were created to crack. Whatever makes you sleepless is what you were born to succeed in. Don’t give up!

What if I can't ever be who you want me to be? What if I keep letting you down?

When sleep came, I would dream bad dreams. Not the baby and the big man with a cigarette-lighter dream. Another dream. The castle dream. A little girl of about six who looks -like me, but isn’t me, is happy as she steps out of the car with her daddy. They enter the castle and go down the steps to the dungeon where people move like shadows in the glow of burning candles. There are carpets and funny pictures on the walls. Some of the people wear hoods and robes. Sometimes they chant in droning voices that make the little girl afraid. There are other children, some of them without any clothes on. There is an altar like the altar in nearby St Mildred’s Church. The children take turns lying on that altar so the people, mostly men, but a few women, can kiss and lick their private parts. The daddy holds the hand of the little girl tightly. She looks up at him and he smiles. The little girl likes going out with her daddy. I did want to tell Dr Purvis these dreams but I didn’t want her to think I was crazy, and so kept them to myself. The psychiatrist was wiser than I appreciated at the time; sixteen-year-olds imagine they are cleverer than they really are. Dr Purvis knew I had suffered psychological damage as a child, that’s why she kept making a fresh appointment week after week. But I was unable to give her the tools and clues to find out exactly what had happened.

What would you rather be, Jackie? Angry mad or crazy mad? I think I'd rather be crazy mad, because you can be crazy and still happy.

When I realized I was crazy, I had two options: Love it or hate it. Love was the more effective choice.

What was worse, being crazy or being evil?