... the individual is alone. That is the central feature when we penetrate insanity. Not that the world is less with us, but that another world pervades it too, and we, seeing and experiencing life upon a different plane, are cut off from communication with the sane around us.

I have reached the conclusion that almost all of us wonder, at least on occasion, about our own mental health.

Craziness attacks the softest eyes and hamstrings the gentlest flanks.

I learned techniques in self-help groups that taught me how to fight my own mind.

This is a cause that found me.

We worked hard as hell to get better.

I felt a cleaving in my mind As if my brain had split; I tried to match it, seam by seam, But could not make them fit. The thought behind I strove to join Unto the thought before, But sequence raveled out of reach Like balls upon a floor.

Much madness is divinest sense To a discerning eye; Much sense the starkest madness. 'Tis the majority In this, as all, prevails. Assent, and you are sane; Demur,-you're straightway dangerous, And handled with a chain.

To be too conscious is an illness-a real thorough-going illness.

Great wits are sure to madness near allied, And thin partitions do their bounds divide.