Gone is the terror that came hunting for me.

I dove into madness and learned how to swim.

Many of the people I've met who've been labeled crazy have been extraordinarily perceptive, gentle, sensitive, and kind. But often enough these very qualities get them into trouble. They clog up the assembly line.

Now I know how people become "catatonic." This sickening doubt as to the "right" move holds one paralyzed: the only safe decision is no decision.

The neurotic builds castles in the sky. The psychotic lives in them. The psychiatrist collects the rent.

In our movement, we've had to learn to be patient with sane people, because we know they're a little slow.

There is a pane of glass between me and mankind.

Those who are insane generally reason correctly, but they reason from false assumptions and on wrong principles.

No excellent soul is exempt from a mixture of madness.

The world is, for the most part, a collective madhouse, and practically everyone, however "normal" his facade, is faking sanity.