Don DeLillo Quotes

I voluntarily inflicted a certain level of insanity on myself.

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

It is difficult to write about any form of mental disease, especially your own, without sounding as if you were examining a bug under glass.

Every man has a rainy corner of his life whence comes foul weather which follows him.

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

Everybody has a story... and a scream.

Dealing with chronic anxiety has taught me to better understand the nuances of mental illness and the very individual nature of it.

... madness entered my veins.

I personally dealt with a lot of depression and anxiety in my life.

I've certainly gone through my fair share of anxiety and depression.

When you talk about people being haunted or wrestling demons, that is a rich metaphor.

Everyone is battling something emotional behind closed doors - that's life.

I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched.

They're caught where there's no way out or where you can't see out. What are you going to do about it? I don't have the answer. If I did there would be no insane asylums. But I see a lot of people, a lot of my friends in the same predicament. Many times in my life, I was there myself.

How sick i am! that thought Always comes to me with horror. Is it this strange for everybody? But such fugitive feelings have always been my metier.

Every pore of you is crying and you don't even understand why or what. I actually kind of died and got born again as a result of taking the meds and having a chance to, you know, build a life.

Underneath this veneer of slightly crazy and mildly socially retarded, I'm a complete disaster.

We have all our private terrors, our particular shadows, our secret fears. We are afraid in a fear which we cannot face, which none understands, and our hearts are torn from us, our brains unskinned like the layers of an onion, ourselves the last.

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

The worst things weren't outside of you.

We have a dysfunctional dream of the planet, and humans are mentally sick with a disease called fear. The symptoms of the disease are all the emotions that make humans suffer: anger, hate, sadness, envy, and betrayal. When the fear is too great, the reasoning mind begins to fail, and we call this mental illness.

To have a true idea of man or of life, one must have stood himself on the brink of suicide, or on the door-sill of insanity, at least once.

I’ve known a lot of people go mad over the years, and it is more distressing than people dying. People dying is quite natural, people going mad is the complete antithesis of that.

Mine (story) ain't the scariest, the clearest, the most painful, or the most beautiful. It just happens to be the one that's got it's fingers around my throat.

My fear of life is necessary to me, as is my illness. Without anxiety and illness, I am a ship without a rudder. My art is grounded in reflections over being different from others. My sufferings are part of my self and my art. They are indistinguishable from me, and their destruction would destroy my art. I want to keep those sufferings