... both overacuteness of the senses and impaired ability to logically synthesize incoming stimuli may lie behind many of the delusions experienced by many schizophrenics.

My life has crept so long on a broken wing Thro' cells of madness, haunts of horror and fear, That I come to be grateful at last for a little thing.

'Tis a mad world, my masters.

Every man has a madness of his own.

If people behaved in the way nations do they would all be put into straightjackets.

We're all so near the edge, it's a wonder any of us functions at all.

Long ago they lowered insane persons into snake pits; they thought that an experience that might drive a sane person out of his wits might send an insane person back to sanity.

It happens all the time, I told her, some of us have bad vision, are crippled, have defects, and our reality is a different one, not the correct and ascertainable one, and sometimes it makes us dotty and lonely but it also makes us poets.

Well, I thought, last night I paid my dues. I faced death. Now I can stay.

Colds, ulcers, flu, and cancer are things we get. Schizophrenia is something we are.

As well as being one of the worst things that can happen to a human being, schizophrenia can also be one of the richest learning and humanizing experiences life offers.

Psychotic episodes are disintegrations which provide an opportunity for reintegration at new levels.

And so we came forth, and once again beheld the stars.

The madman who knows that he is mad is close to sanity.

... nothing defines the quality of life in a community more clearly than people who regard themselves, or whom the consensus chooses to regard, as mentally unwell.

Most persons with schizophrenia are not dangerous at all.

Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain, And with some sweet oblivious antidote Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart?

To be crazy is not necessarily to writhe in snake pits or converse with imaginary gods. It can sometimes be not knowing what to do in the morning.

Here I sit-mad as the Hatter-with nothing to do but either become madder and madder or else recover enough of my sanity to be allowed to go back to the life which drove me mad.

When a man mistakes his thoughts for persons and things, this is madness.