When you are insane, you are busy being insane-all the time ... when I was crazy, that was all I was.
People are so... seem so chaotic internally, but being filtered through some form, like making a record, sort of filters it down into something that can be understood.
He suddenly became convinced that if he didn’t do something sensible, something to put his mind to some use, then before he knew it he would be wondering round the streets having fights with himself and inviting domestic animals to social occasions too.
So it is with minds. Unless you keep them busy with some definite subject that will bridle and control them, they throw themselves in disorder hither and yon in the vague field of imagination... And there is no mad or idle fancy that they do not bring forth in the agitation.
I look like a casual, laid-back guy, but it's like a circus in my head.
Her mind is an unquiet one, words and thoughts and impulses constantly crashing into each other.
Madness, in its wild, untamable words, proclaims its own meaning; in its chimeras, it utters its secret truth.
Words and images run riot in my head, pursuing, flying, clashing, merging, endlessly. But beyond this tumult there is a great calm, and a great indifference, never really to be troubled by anything again.
That's what it's like in my head all the time, constant snow, constant weather patterns of all sorts - blizzards, cyclones.
The premonition of madness is complicated by the fear of lucidity in madness, the fear of the moments of return and reunion... One would welcome chaos if one were not afraid of lights in it.