Charlaine Harris Quotes

Sometimes I think that if I wasn't crazy... I'd go crazy.

Insanity is being shit on, beat down, coasting through life in a miserable existence when you have a caged lion locked inside and a key to release it.

Zaphod felt he was teetering on the edge of madness and wondered if he shouldn't just jump over and have done with it.

But I'm Crazy. I swear to God I am.

There is a particular kind of pain, elation, loneliness, and terror involved in this kind of madness. When you're high it's tremendous. The ideas and feelings are fast and frequent like shooting stars....But, somewhere, this changes. The fast ideas are far too fast, and there are far too many; overwhelming confusion replaces clarity. Everything previously moving with the grain is now against-you are irritable, angry, frightened, uncontrollable....It will never end, for madness carves its own reality.

Great. She shook her head. Not only am I having conversations with myself, but now I'm refusing to talk to me. This has got to be the first sign of madness.

i'm going mad, i told myself. let me not be mad.

I look in the mirror every morning, okay. What is going on here? You know, I just say, 'Look, it's sheer insanity.'

I feel like I'm in my own head a lot; it just feels amazing, but scary, weird and confusing.

My demons are not that easy to shake.

Manic depression's touching my soul. I know what I want, but I just don't know how to go about getting it.

I am interested in madness. I believe it is the biggest thing in the human race, and the most constant. How do you take away from a man his madness without also taking away his identity? Are we sure it is desirable for a man's spirit not to be at war with itself, or that it is better to be serene and ready to go to dinner than to be excited and unwilling to stop for a cup of coffee, even?

Sometimes I think my soul is full of weeds!

I have lived on the lip of insanity, wanting to know reasons, knocking on a door. It opens. I've been knocking from the inside.

There's always that fear of your own head and the things you're going to think.

Basically, that's why I wrote: to save my ass, to save my ass from the madhouse, from the streets, from myself.

What I really hated, of course, was my mind. There must have been an off switch somewhere, but I was damned if I could find it.

To be crazy is not necessarily to writhe in snake pits or converse with imaginary gods. It can sometimes be not knowing what to do in the morning.

I think I am mad sometimes.

I can't sleep with you tonight, baby, my head's all messed up, you've no idea. It's somewhere else and it's full of voices and songs and bad things.

Would you please tell me what you are thinking? Before I go mad?

How crazy craziness makes everyone, how irrationally afraid. The madness hidden in each of us, called to, identified, aroused like a lust. And against that the jaw sets. The more I fear my own insanity the more I must punish yours.

There's no such thing as mental illness. We're all mentally ill and we're all haunted by something, and some people manage to find a way to ride it out so that they don't wind up needing extra help. So I think that "mental illness," as a term, is garbage. Everybody is in various states of needing to transcend something.

When you live with voices in your head, you are drawn inextricably to voices outside your head. Very often the voices work to confirm your worst suspicions. Or think of things you could never have imagined! There are only so many hours of the day to hate yourself.

[Neurotics are] torn by inner conflicts ... Every neurotic ... is at war with himself.