Allen Ginsberg Quotes

The root of the problem I have is anxiety, and it's all derived from something - I'm just going to say it, some kind of sadness. It manifests in so many different ways and it affects people differently.

There's nothing wrong with me...except acute chronic fear.

I knew from a very young age that there was something very wrong with me.

My soul is dark with stormy riot: directly traced over to diet.

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

I'm acutely aware of my anxiety.

When I admitted to myself I was ill, it was tough to accept. I didn't want my family to worry about me.

Fear is not a disease of the body; fear kills the soul.

I am unable to describe exactly what is the matter with me; now and then there are horrible fits of anxiety, apparently without cause, or otherwise a feeling of emptiness and fatigue in the head.

I am too sick to be out of bed, too crazy to sleep, and am surrounded by horrors.

Worry, fear, self-distrust bows the heart and turns the spirit back to dust.

Well, you know, there's depression and depression. What I mean by depression in my own case is that depression isn't just the blues. It's not just like I have a hangover in the weekend ... the girl didn't show up or something like that. It isn't that. It's not really depression, it's a kind of mental violence which stops you from functioning properly from one moment to the next. You lose something somewhere and suddenly you're gripped by a kind of angst of the heart and of the spirit.

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.

She sometimes thought she was going crazy. Her first thought when she woke up was always how to get him out of her thoughts. And she would keep watch, hoping to see him next door, while plotting ways to never have to see him again.

Worry is a mean-faced dwarf who beats on your heart like a kettledrum.

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.

Most self-laceration is more noisy than painful.

Depression is very bad illness. This will be the toughest fight of my life.

The soul has more diseases than the body.

Humans are mentally sick with a disease called fear.

You can’t keep messing me around like this. It’s been going on too long. I can’t take it anymore. I get sick every time you come around. Then I get sick when you leave. You’re like a disease to me.

I'm currently in the middle of a depression. I couldn't really tell you what set it off, but I think it stems from my cowardice, which confronts me at every turn.

Perspective [is] a luxury when your head [is] constantly buzzing with a swarm of demons.

The need to document my insanity is an affliction I have not yet cured myself of.

In my madness I see your face in mine.