Holly Black Quotes

Why take drugs specifically designed to send you insane?

Fear has governed my life, if I think about it.

My heart pounds sickeningly and I turn pale... I often feel as if I were dead... I seem to be losing my mind.

For like four or five months of my life I was too scared to like, move around and reach out for things because I was worried that I'd my hands would run into glass, like I could reach up and if I reached up and knocked on the air it would make a noise. I couldn't look at the sky because I was worried that I see a crack.

After I binged last night -or was it tonight - I was convinced yet again that there were people coming to get me. It was more than just shadows and voices, more than just fantasies....it was real, and I was scared to my core.My bones were shaking...m heart was pounding...I thought I was going to explode. I'm glad I have you to talk to, to write this down. I tried to keep it all together, but then I gave in to the manes and became one with my insanity.

Paranoia, the destroyer.

Do I have a large frog in my hair? I have the sensation that something is eating my brain.

People on a daily basis walk up to me, panic, and tell me something extremely graphic and violent about their life.

Most of the depressions are self-created. A few people are pathologically ill: they cannot help it. It just comes from within because of genetic and other factors. But almost everybody else can be driven to madness, because the line between sanity and insanity is quite thin.

We need to start identifying the triggers that aggravate mental health issues in our society - bullying, social media negativity and anxiety, gender based violence, substance abuse, stigma around issues such as maternal issues, etc., and we need to speak up about these more and get to the source of the problems.

I had a couple years of depression. I started drinking too much. I had to up my antidepressants. I cried all day, every day, and I lost weight. But I had to take care of two kids. It wasn't about me anymore.

They call it football, but the object of the game is to bash the other guy so hard that he's eventually carried off the field on a stretcher. I can't watch football anymore. My psychiatrist said it's better that way. I used to watch a game, see the players in a huddle - and think they were talking about me.

True! - nervous - very, very nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad?

Paranoia: the gift of the survivor and the burden of the overtired, stressed, and terrified.

The Joker is a psychopathic, mass-murdering, schizophrenic clown with zero empathy. Last week I probably slept an average of two hours a night. I couldn't stop thinking. My body was exhausted, and my mind was still going.

The fear's as bad as falling.

Now, this is the fun part about getting stoned. They get stoned, then they become paranoid. Now, when they started out, they said, "Let's get high and have fun." So they're high; now they're paranoid. "Am I falling out of this chair?"

This girl shivers and crawls under the covers with all her clothes on and falls into an overdue library book, a faerie story with rats and marrow and burning curses. The sentences build a fence around her, a Times Roman 10-point barricade, to keep the thorny voices in her head from getting too close.

I've always been paranoid about the police, because even when I'm not doing anything illegal, I'm thinking about doing something illegal. So, whenever I'm around a cop, I get uncomfortable and nervous, worried that I'll say the wrong thing or look so guilty they'll arrest me anyway. Being completely out of my mind on drugs doesn't help the situation any.

Have I mentioned that I expect death around every turn, that every blue sky has a safe sailing out of it, that every bus runs me over, that every low, mean syllable uttered in my direction seems to intimate the violence of murder, that every family seems like an opportunity for ruin and every marriage a ceremony into which calamity will fall and hearts will be broken and lives destroyed and people branded by the mortifications of love?

I go to bed, and I wait for sleep as a man might wait for the executioner. I wait for its coming with dread, and my heart beats and my legs tremble, while my whole body shivers beneath the warmth of the bedclothes, until the moment when I suddenly fall asleep, as a man throws himself into a pool of stagnant water in order to drown. I do not feel this perfidious sleep coming over me as I used to, but a sleep which is close to me and watching me, which is going to seize me by the head, to close my eyes and annihilate me.

... from our vantage point it is now clear that the only thing the population had to fear was fear itself.

If anyone ever asks you what panic is, now you can tell them: an emotional blank spot that leaves you feeling as if you've been sucking on a mouthful of pennies.

I don't smoke a lot of pot anymore. No one wants to hang around a guy who ends every sentence with, "Do you guys hate me?"

And I like a good horror story as much as the next person so long as they kill off some men too and not just girls. But the voices Joan heard were real. There’s clear and substantiated proof they were real.