Ogden Nash Quotes

I'm very emotional; I think I may go mad in several years' time.

I've got the brain of a four year old. I'll bet he was glad to be rid of it.

What a waste it is to lose one's mind. Or not to have a mind is being very wasteful. How true that is.

My thoughts, my beliefs, my feelings are all in my brain. My brain is going to rot.

One said of suicide, As long as one has brains one should not blow them out. And another answered, But when one has ceased to have them, too often one cannot.

It's obvious that my brain isn't what it used to be.

I watch people get older and lose their intellectual acuity; you lose that sharpness, that cleanness, that brain that you worked so hard on and that you were gifted with and lose the gifts that were given.

I don't think it's physically possible for little kids to know what abstract thought is.

I hit my head against the wall because I don't want to know all the terrible things that I know about. I don't want to feel all these wretched things, but they're in me already. If I don't get rid of them, I'm not ever going to feel anything else.

Nowadays not even a suicide kills himself in desperation. Before taking the step he deliberates so long and so carefully that he literally chokes with thought. It is even questionable whether he ought to be called a suicide, since it is really thought which takes his life. He does not die with deliberation but from deliberation.

I am crazy as hell, but I know it. And knowing it is a kind of sanity that makes the sickness worse.

The thought of killing myself had slowed me down to five miles per hour. The thought of killing someone else stopped me completely.

Look at it this way: There are many here among us for whom the life force is best represented by the livid twitching of one tortured nerve, or even a full-scale anxiety attack. I do not subscribe to this point of view 100 percent, but I understand it, have lived it. Thus the shriek, the caterwaul, the chainsaw gnarlgnashing, the yowl and the whizz that decapitates may be reheard by the adventurous or emotionally damaged as mellifluous bursts of unarguable affirmation.

It was not as easy to commit suicide as to contemplate it.

Mattie sat at the table, obsessing, orbiting around herself. She was sick of her worried, hostile mind. It would have killed her long before, she felt, if it hadn't needed the transportation.

I don't think his elevator went all the way to the top anymore, if you know what I mean

They must take me for a fool, or even worse, a lunatic. And no wonder ,for I am so intensely conscious of my misfortune and my misery is so overwhelming that I am powerless to resist it and am being turned into stone, devoid of all knowledge or feeling.

I'm losing control."-Brittany Mamacita, I've already lost it."-Alex

Here's the difficulty about suicide: it is an act of ambition that can be committed only when one has passed beyond ambition.

When a condition or a problem becomes too great, humans have the protection of not thinking about it. But it goes inward and minces up with a lot of other things already there and what comes out is discontent and uneasiness, guilt and a compulsion to get something--anything--before it is all gone.

But day after day of depression, the kind that doesn’t seem to merit carting me off to a hospital but allows me to sit here on this stoop in summer camp as if I were normal, day after day wearing down everybody who gets near me. My behavior seems, somehow, not acute enough for them to know what to do with me, though I’m just enough of a mess to be driving everyone around me crazy.

That special substance according to whose mass and degree of development all the creatures of this world take rank in the scale of creation, is not bone, but brain.

Neurotics, who cause less distress to themselves and their neighbours than those in the other category, are at war with their own natures. Their right hands are in conflict with their left. Psychotics, and it is those who commit purposeless crimes and prefer death to life, are at war with their environment. Right and left hands strike against the womb that carries them.

I found that things weren't going well upstairs. Carter was a crumpled heap of chicken warrior on the slope of the pyramid.

I was exhausted and going through a terrible depression.