Best 930 quotes in «madness quotes» category

One of the most distinctive features of psychosis is its dynamic of externalization. Madness is experienced as being enacted on the subject from without; a person perceives his own unintegrated psychological contents as outer-world creatures and demons who threaten to engulf and physically destroy him. The barriers between inner and outer, subject and object, dissolve so entirely that no boundary remains to protect the ego from the onslaught of this projected unconscious material.

One of the most studied ideas as to what causes schizophrenia is the 'chemical imbalance theory,' which derives psychiatric pharmaceuticals themselves. Though the 'mechanism of action' of drugs marketed for their 'antipsychotic' properties isn't understood--plainly, drug companies believe these drugs are effective in lessening psychiatric symptoms, but they don't actually know why--what is known is that they affect chemical levels in the brain. It's therefore supposed that abnormal chemical levels might somehow be crucial to understanding what's different about the brains of people diagnosed with schizophrenia. Testing chemical levels inside brains remains impossible. Despite billions of dollars of investigation, the chemical imbalance theory has never been confirmed.

Only a mind that is deeply stirred can utter something noble and beyond the power of others.

ONLY' having the Gift, people appreciate this madness as Art. Everybody wants to have Art in their lives, but no body wants to have what the Art came out from in their lives...

(On the communist regime of Ceaușescu) "Romania," said Eugene, "was twenty million people living inside the imagination of a madman.

Our experiences change us,” he said, but he addressed the canvas instead of Kat. “They cause us to do things, to become people we never dreamed possible. I wasn’t always a criminal. I wasn’t always a resident of Bethlem. Although I may forever be.” - Mr. Dadd

Our families define us, sometimes in ways we cannot help or even know. I’m certain there are things about you that have come as a result of your family, of what you have faced with or because of them.” Mr. Snead

Our existence comes with Death. And it comes with suffering, death alone is not enough and pleasure have consequences. wicked and fucked. love comes with hurting. And having means losing.

Our love had begun in folly, and ended in madness!

Out, in Henry’s view, is a madhouse. Historians of social lunacy will confirm that this is literally the case, that the mad have been let out of the asylums and allowed to walk the streets. But Henry doesn’t mean that. By mad, nerve-strung Henry means revving when you’re stationary and driving with your hand on your horn – read that sexually if you like, but Henry has in mind incessant honking – he means text messaging the person standing next to you, or being wired up so that you can speak into thin air, conversing with God is how it looks to Henry, or wearing running shoes when you’re not running, or coming up to Henry with a bad face and a dog on a piece of string and asking him for money. Why would Henry give someone with a bad face money? Because of the dog? Because of the string?

Over the years of the Cultural Revolution, I was to witness people being attacked for saying "thank you" too often, which was branded as "bourgeois hypocrisy"; courtesy was on the brink of extinction.

Perhaps it was only that I did not feel any crazier than I had ever felt. I did not notice any missing gray tissue, I did not seem to be thinking any slower or more strangely, and so far I’d had no conversations with invisible buddies that I was aware of. Except in my sleep, of course-and did that really count? Weren’t we all crazy in our sleep? What was sleep, after all, but the process by which we dumped our insanity into a dark subconscious pit and came out on the other side ready to eat cereal instead of the neighbor’s children?

Perhaps it was a passing moment of madness after all. There is no trace of it any more. My odd feelings of the other week seem to me quite ridiculous today: I can no longer enter into them.

Poetry is jealous of you tonight, for as soon as I come to pen a few words, your perfume attacks me in the most civilised manner and I forget myself. I forget the poem. I forget the ...

Poor devil! None of us can have the remotest idea of the agony it is to be despised and rejected of men. A cancer in the soul and then madness. The feeling of there being a curtain, more invisible than gauze, stronger than iron, between one’s self and one’s fellow man. To cry out of the abyss and to know that there will be no answer, that one is buried alive.

Poetry led me by the hand out of madness.

Poetry comes within, not the person you pretend to be out there... Take your fears, your failures, your flaws and dip your pen in that ink, For when it comes to writing something beautiful, we all must first face the monsters, we would rather just erase.

Positive madness leads to new knowledge.

Prison madness is much the same! Insanity is plentiful in prisons. These days with the drug culture it’s not a lot of difference, as a lot of convicts make themselves psychotic and paranoid. Many end up killers, all over petty and minor problems. Where men would once squabble, fight and kill over a ½ oz of bacca they now do the same over a gram of white powder or a bag of brown!

Read history and go mad.

¿Quien sabe? Quizas ellos tengan razón. Quizas estamos siendo manejados como locos por nuestros sentimientos. Quizas el amor es una enfermedad y estaríamos mejor sin ella. Pero nosotros elegimos una ruta diferente. Y al final, ese es el punto de escapar de la cura: Somos libres para elegir. Somos incluso libres para elegir algo horrible.

Proclamava-se ali o fim do mundo, a salvação penitencial, a visão do sétimo dia, o advento do anjo, a colisão cósmica, a extinção do sol, o espírito da tribo, a seiva da mandrágora, o unguento do tigre, a virtude do signo, a disciplina do vento, o perfume da lua, a reivindicação da treva, o poder do esconjuro, a marca do calcanhar, a crucificação da rosa, a pureza da linfa, o sangue do gato preto, a dormência da sombra, a revolta das marés, a lógica da antropofagia, a castração sem dor, a tatuagem divina, a cegueira voluntária, o pensamento convexo, o côncavo, o plano, o vertical, o inclinado, o concentrado, o disperso, o fugido, a ablação das cordas vocais, a morte da palavra.

Read the philosophers and go mad.

Relationships are nine parts intuition, one part madness.

Regress towards progress - Dr Wannamaker

Remembering what a disagreeable experience madness had been, she averted her thoughts with haste.

Revirgination surgery for women is the fastest growing segment within the Indian cosmetic surgery industry. But any culture that decides a woman’s worth by the presence or absence of a membrane needs to examine its collective head.

Revenge is a business of calculation, best served cold. Rescue holds more of sacrifice, suicidal danger, and all manner of other madness that should have me running in the opposite direction.

Sabe, sargento, a loucura, quando dá a um grande número de pessoas, chama-se sociedade contemporânea. Quando dá a uma pessoa só, interna-se essa pessoa.

Scientists and inventors of the USA (especially in the so-called "blue state" that voted overwhelmingly against Trump) have to think long and hard whether they want to continue research that will help their government remain the world's superpower. All the scientists who worked in and for Germany in the 1930s lived to regret that they directly helped a sociopath like Hitler harm millions of people. Let us not repeat the same mistakes over and over again.

Sadism ... is a massive cultural fact that appeared precisely at the end of the eighteenth century and that constitutes one of the greatest conversions of the occidental imagination ... madness of desire, the insane delight of love and death in the limitless presumption of appetite.

Sanity is a less severe form of insanity.

She sat in a secluded room, she was mad, but she could not accept it; so she was neither sane nor insane. She could not be either until she knew herself, so in limbo she must die. She kept stuffing toilet roll into her mouth. They found her choked to death!

She is mad, and I am sane. To speak to her, even the first word, would be an acknowledgement and an acceptance of her madness, and from there I would have no choice but to follow her down the hole until both of us would be here alone in this ship among the clouds, endlessly circling the earth, our needs carefully ministered to by mechanical men, howling ourselves hoarse and counting off the ticks of the clock before the moon falls out of the sky.

She screamed. Her screaming was beautiful. But, truth be told he missed the crying.

She sees the best in the world. Not because she is exposed to the best. She’s exposed to the same madness as everybody else. She chooses to see the beauty in all.

She thought, perhaps I am simply mad. It will grow worse. That will be my life.

She burns like the sun Beautiful when she comes undone No restraints Pure passion flowing through her veins Madness refusing to be tamed.

She looked at me again, and the sweet and shy Nicole disappeared. Her eyes blazed. "The others aren't here, are they?" she said. "You have no intention of rescuing me. Why would you? I'm competition for your precious Daniel. You don't want him, but you don't want anyone else to have him either. You're a selfish b*tch, Maya Delaney. A sl*t, too, fooling around with every guy in sight, right under his nose." As Nicole raged, the hair on my neck prickled, because in her eyes, I saw madness. Obsession and madness. "Everything comes so easy for you, doesn't it, Maya? School, boys, friends, sports. Even your precious animals. You can't just take care of them like any normal person. You have to be some kind of animal whisperer. Magical healer. So damned special. Like Serena, captain of the swim team and the best singer on the freaking island, and how much does she practice? Sings in the shower. Paddles around the lake. Do you know how hard I work? It's never enough. You two get the trophies and the solos and the As and the boys." You're crazy, I thought. Did they do this to you with their experiments? Or is this just you? I started inching back. "You're just going to leave me here?" she said. "Well, you know what, Maya? I could use a little company." She screamed, a long drawn-out shriek of feigned terror.

She’s mad. Best leave her be, in case it’s catching.

She was chaos and beauty intertwined. A tornado of roses from divine.

She watched as the dancing lights of madness swirled and flickered in his eyes like the fires of hell, and she knew that there would never be anything that could quench those fires except death. Vanessa knew that Jango had become his own Grim Reaper.

she will change the world someday, her cure of love in a world gone mad; is the gentle kind of touch that will teach women to grow and men to rise.

She saw him like he was the only star in the whole damn sky. Like he was the only bridge between her sanity and madness.

Some say that you should turn your face from the light of the moon. They say it makes you mad. I turn my face towards it and I laugh. Make me mad, I whisper. Go on, make Mina mad. I laugh again. Some people think that she's already mad, I think.

Sitting to think of what to write will only set your ass on fire, give you headache, twist your face to look stupid, instead, walk around with a blank mind and something from somewhere will fill it up.

So if all what I’ve said is the definition of insanity then the next thing is how do you define an evil bastard? People can mix evil and insanity up, thinking both to be the one and self same thing…wrong! Let me tell you about evil, first you smell it, secondly you feel it, thirdly you taste it and finally you need to destroy it.

Some critics may say Noonday was mad. He was not. Toweringly weird, yes--mad, no. He saw that in five years he would attain the Presidency of the University. Form there he could embark on a career leading straight to the White House, that High Seat of the Lie, open only to holders of the Third Degree of Falsehood.

Some of the madmen are really fun to be with. I soon learnt to relate to them. I soon became one of them. I ended up the maddest of the mad. There is no madder than myself! Please believe it.

Some people in orthodox churches in Africa take poverty as a path that leads to heaven, making christianity look unattractive.