Mad Quotes

She loved me deeply, madly and passionately. She knew no other way!

Don’t be afraid to make people mad. Your honesty will inspire your true followers. I piss off tons of people every day.

He had become completely mad in his movements; He seemed to be doing everything at the same time. It was a shaking of the head, up and down, sideways; jerky, vigorous hands; quick walking, sitting, crossing the legs, uncrossing, getting up, rubbing the hands, rubbing his fly, hitching his pants, looking up and saying 'Am,' and sudden slitting of the eyes to see everywhere; and all the time he was grabbing me by the ribs and talking, talking

You’re cute when you're mad." He caressed my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. I huffed in exasperation. "Is that why you make me mad all the time?

A large American automobile came crawling close to us, and we could hear from behind its thick windows the deep bass of the radio, and the nasty words of a hateful song.It seemed like so much of modern music, a din to drive human beings mad.

I thought you were mad at me.""I am.""Well, I make it a rule never to have sex with anyone who's mad at me."He arched a brow. "It's a wonder you've ever had sex at all.

Too often fear is fiction madly running amuck, all the while madly tracking ‘muck’ across the floor of fact.

Whoever is planning a nuclear war or seriously thinking about using nuclear weapons must directly be taken to a mental hospital! Mad people are mentally sick and they only need a medical treatment! Every nation has the responsibility to weed their deranged politicians out from their governments!

If I’m right,’ she said, ‘and you have all sorts of juicy information in that dossier of yours, you’ll know that I am an abnormally forgiving person, even of those who have used me and hurt me more than one person deserves to be hurt. But right this second, I am looking forward to the day you rot in hell.

There is much of our world, we do not see. So, it is easy to assume nothing exciting happens in our quadrant of space, but we are dead wrong. Crazy, impossible things occur all the time. We simply need to know where to look.

It's a lot easier to be crazy or mad than to just get on with living.

What would you rather be, Jackie? Angry mad or crazy mad? I think I'd rather be crazy mad, because you can be crazy and still happy.

We're not mad," he began, meaning he was. He was always a plural when mad, as though grammatically throwing his lot in with her mother gave him the power of her authority.

They called me mad, and I called them mad, and damn them, they outvoted me.

The one thing you don't do is screw with me, or I'll make your life a living hell; and trust me I'll make sure you burn!

You don't tell anyone things like that about your friends, even when you're mad at them.

A little manic was okay. A little manic paid the bills and got him up in the morning, made him magic when he needed it most.

We can feel damaged and sad and mad and know that it doesn’t make us any less worthy than when we didn’t feel that way.

When your madness is creative and necessary, people will not notice the fact that you are crazy.

One sip of this wine and you will go mad with drunkenness. You will drop your masks and tear your clothes — destroying everything that separates you from the Lover. Once you taste the fruit of this vine, you will be kicked out of the city of yourself. You will forget the world. You will forget yourself. I tell you: you will become a madman who wanders the streets looking for the Lover once you drink this Wine of Love.

If you find yourself engaged in an argument that only stirs anger in the heart, quickly make peace and carry on.

You baffle me, addle me, drive me insane. You muddle, befuddle, and rattle my brain. My senses are mad, Skewed judgment to blame.You drive me half stark-raving bonkers!(But the truly crazy thing is how I love it.)

I sometimes think if I did not write I would be a madwoman. Now I am a sane woman with a lot of mad pages.

And there I was at night, chasing after the full moon behind the clouds like a mad man in search of the reflection of the light of love in another person, without daring to light up the spark of light that I had left within myself. It was nowhere to be seen, but I felt it was out there somewhere. I've surely seen it a couple of days ago up in the sky and my eyes couldn't have lied to me, it was so beautiful, or so it appeared to be. I guess I have to stop stalking what can't be seen for awhile and let the light of the full moon find its way through my messed up soul. Maybe it's time to go to sleep and trust that another sunrise will renew what the full moon couldn't clear away tonight. During all that time, I might've not found the light of the moon, but I rested deeply with the sound of the raindrops, while gazing at the quiet river flowing slowly. What a crucial moment to be alive!

Beasts bounding through time. Van Gogh writing his brother for paintsHemingway testing his shotgunCeline going broke as a doctor of medicinethe impossibility of being humanVillon expelled from Paris for being a thiefFaulkner drunk in the gutters of his townthe impossibility of being humanBurroughs killing his wife with a gunMailer stabbing histhe impossibility of being humanMaupassant going mad in a rowboatDostoevsky lined up against a wall to be shotCrane off the back of a boat into the propellerthe impossibilitySylvia with her head in the oven like a baked potatoHarry Crosby leaping into that Black SunLorca murdered in the road by the Spanish troopsthe impossibilityArtaud sitting on a madhouse benchChatterton drinking rat poisonShakespeare a plagiaristBeethoven with a horn stuck into his head against deafnessthe impossibility the impossibilityNietzsche gone totally madthe impossibility of being humanall too humanthis breathingin and outout and inthese punksthese cowardsthese championsthese mad dogs of glorymoving this little bit of light towardusimpossibly

Magda looks at me as if I've gone mad. Or I've grown up. It's kind of the same thing.

What do we mean by ‘crazy’? What do we mean by ‘mad’? At what point is a person just different and at what point can we call it a disease and say that they are not responsible for their actions? Or are we all slaves to the chemical processes that go on in our brains?

ROSENCRANTZ My lord, you must tell us where the body is, and go with us to the king.HAMLET The body is with the king, but the king is not with the body. The king is a thing -GUILDENSTERN A thing my lord?HAMLET Of nothing. Bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after!

People who take you for granted would be mad at those who regard you as something.

I know you think I'm crazy. Maybe that's because I am. About life, about this moment, about you.

Dance like you're stamping on a human face forever, love like you've been in a serious car crash that minced the front of your brain, stab like no one can arrest you, and live like there's no such thing as God.

My love, you are driving the entire world mad. The nightingales are committing suicide one by one out of jealousy of your voice. The roses took one glance at your beauty and folded themselves from shame. The trees now only whisper your name and the sky hasn’t stopped crying since you looked up. Have pity on us, my love. We have already broken all the mirrors and glass out of fear that you will forget us and fall in love with yourself once you see what we all cannot stop seeing.

Someone engulfed by fury cannot think rationally.

Poets do not go mad; but chess-players do. Mathematicians go mad, and cashiers; but creative artists very seldom. I am not, as will be seen, in any sense attacking logic: I only say that this danger does lie in logic, not in imagination.

I count everything. Even numbers, odd numbers, multiples of 10. I count the ticks of the clock i count the tocks of the clock I count the lines between the lines on a sheet of paper. I count the broken beats of my heart I count my pulse and my blinks and the number of tries it takes to inhale enough oxygen for my lungs. I stay like this I stand like this I count like this until the feeling stops. Until the tears stop spilling, until my fists stop shaking, until my heart stops aching. There are never enough numbers.

Is Bronson mad! Let me ask you! How else can I be? I’m probably the maddest guy on two legs if the truth was known, but prison will never beat me, I’d sooner die today than allow it too!

Weird how I can feel so frail and tiny sometimes, and other times so brave and bold and reckless and free, and . . . Does everybody feel the same? When people get grown-up, do they always feel grown-up and sensible and sorted out and . . . And do I want to feel grown-up? Do I want to stop feeling . . . paradoxical, nonsensical? Do I want to stop being crackers? Do I want to be destrangified? O yes, sometimes I want nothing more - but it only lasts a moment, then O I want to be the strangest and crakerest of everybody.

I see that a man cannot give himself up to drinking without being miserable one-half his days and mad the other.

If we had to earn our age by thinking for ourselves at least once a year, only a handful of people would reach adulthood.

This is what labels do. They stick. If people think you're MAD, then everything you do, everything you think, will have MAD stamped across it.

Everyone says she’s mad.’‘How do they know?’ I asked.‘Because she’s different from other people, I suppose.’‘Is that being mad?’‘No. Not really, I suppose madness is not seeing things as others see them.

You are funny like a kid and awesome like a princessUnseen like an angel, like the morning sunshine… Kindness like a river and highness like a mountain, In the middle of the Rheine, the cute face and sweet lips …(La la la la, La la , mmmm , mm …)Keep the lovely smile, in your juicy icy eyes Open the heaven for my eyes, forever angel voice Never angry never harsh, never mad never marsh Dear or darling, either diamond or dime, Overall the dream of the world

It is a strange thing that the human species can only go three days without water and three weeks without food, before the body dies. Yet, so many people can go years hanging onto pain and feeling emotionally dead inside. I suppose if it was the other way around more people would go to school to be morticians because of the booming business, or pastors would have to hand out Valium with the sacrament, just to keep the census high.

You and I both know that love is for children,'' he said. ''We're adults. Compatibility is for adults.''''Compatibility is for my Bluetooth and my car,'' Teresa replied. ''Only they get along just fine, and my car never makes my bluetooth feel like shit.

Quite often you drive me mad, but more often I'm just mad about you. And that darling, that's the best love there is.

I know I've got no reason to be crying;I know that there is nowhere left to run.I know that there's no reason to be hiding,I'm just mad at everyone; mad at everyone.

I will speak of love until you go mad and join me in my mad worship of love.

Statistics say that a range of mental disorders affects more than one in four Americans in any given year. That means millions of Americans are totally batshit.but having perused the various tests available that they use to determine whether you're manic depressive. OCD, schizo-affective, schizophrenic, or whatever, I'm surprised the number is that low. So I have gone through a bunch of the available tests, and I've taken questions from each of them, and assembled my own psychological evaluation screening which I thought I'd share with you.So, here are some of the things that they ask to determine if you're mentally disordered1. In the last week, have you been feeling irritable?2. In the last week, have you gained a little weight?3. In the last week, have you felt like not talking to people?4. Do you no longer get as much pleasure doing certain things as you used to?5. In the last week, have you felt fatigued?6. Do you think about sex a lot?If you don't say yes to any of these questions either you're lying, or you don't speak English, or you're illiterate, in which case, I have the distinct impression that I may have lost you a few chapters ago.

To evade insanity and depression, we unconsciously limit the number of people toward whom we are sincerely sympathetic.

When you get mad, it's the time you lose

Over intellect will make you a genius, over emotions will make you a lunatic.

They certified that I was sane; but I know that I am mad." This confession gives us the key to what is most important and significant in Tolstoy's hidden life.

Don't fucking quote me!

The World is enough brutal don't make it mad and crazy more, so far I think that the adrenaline is on it's own full capacity.

Cats are smarter than dogs. You can't get eight cats to pull a sled through snow.

If everything happens for a reason that means you made the right choice even when it’s the wrong choice

Every single person is a fool, insane, a failure, or a bad person to at least ten people.

Madness does not always howl. Sometimes, it is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "Hey, is there room in your head for one more?

He must have been handsome when he was alive and was handsome still, although made monstrous by his pallor and her awareness of what he was. His mouth looked soft, his cheekbones as sharp as blades, and his jaw curved, giving him an off-kilter beauty. His black hair a mad forest of dirty curls.

At this rate I never want to talk to you again. Stay mad at me, Allie. It allows us to communicate in other ways.