sanity

And I still say it was just a coincidence;' he muttered pugnaciously. 'You say it too! Look at me and say it! It was just a coincidence. That happened to be the nearest place on the dial where they both met exactly, those two hands. My blows dented them. They got stuck there just as the works died, that was all. Stay sane whatever you do. Say it over and over. It was just a coincidence!'Outside the tall French windows, in the velvety night-sky, the stars in all their glory twinkled derisively in at them. ("Speak To Me Of Death")

How to win in life:1 work hard 2 complain less 3 listen more 4 try, learn, grow5 don't let people tell you it cant be done6 make no excuses

As a writer one is allowed to have conversations with oneself. What is considered sane in writers is made for the rest of the human race.

Healing from childhood abuse is not going mad, it is going sane.

Now, we shall be able to judge the extent of the spiritual undernourishment if we look at all these movements from another angle: not as errors but rather as attempts to find healing. I use this comparison: For a long time medical men combated fever as if it itself constituted the illness. Medicine today inclines rather to respect it, not only as a symptom of the disease but of the struggle of the organism against the disease. True, it is this struggle which makes it ill, and yet this very struggle is also the proof of its vitality and is the necessary way to healing.

To recognize one's own insanity is, of course, the arising of sanity, the beginning of healing and transcendence.

True vehement love is at the opposite side of sanity.

It__ maybe impossible to escape (your own head), but I guess the secret is the prison cell just gets bigger and bigger and bigger and prettier and prettier and prettier.

You'd be surprised how often you doubt your own sanity when you don't understand your own capacities.

Sanity and happiness are an impossible combination.

Calling it lunacy makes it easier to explain away the things we don't understand.

He remembers how someone _ he forgets who _ once said in a sarcastic tone, __sn__ she just Little Miss Sweetness and Light?_ _ and it was a statement that put him off proposing. It made him seriously reassess his options. He didn__ want to be with someone others saw as overly-moral because he has flaws, he has weaknesses. How would his mistakes compare to her virtuousness? She used to dislike the competitiveness at work, the way she claimed she could never really make friends with anyone because everything was always so fake and cut-throat and he used to berate her for it, used to tell her to accept it, to realise the truth about life and relationships _ but she wouldn__ take it. She was always thinking too hard about everything, always questioning her motives. Surely, if he__ married her, she__ have started questioning his.

Time is not an enemy as such, but a missing person, sending cryptic postcards from the past.

Nearly two years of dates. Still no question. Her mother and father want to set a proper date. Still no question. Her friends keep asking, when, Natasha? When? But she still hasn__ been asked The Question. It__ enjoyable to be the one with all the secrets, but in her honest mind _ the hidden part that__ always sleeping _ the secrets he keeps about when and if give her a feeling inside she__ never really understood completely _ a sensation she had as a child when she got to the end of a fairytale where never-ending love and happiness were all but expected and wondered whether there might be_. one last page.

Trap yourself inside your own brain, switch off the light, block all the escape routes, then turn your back on everything you know to be reality and try and survive there. Try. Living. Nowhere.

The problem with social media is that it's great for your ego, but terrible for your sanity.

A more fundamental problem with labelling human distress and deviance as mental disorder is that it reduces a complex, important, and distinct part of human life to nothing more than a biological illness or defect, not to be processed or understood, or in some cases even embraced, but to be __reated_ and __ured_ by any means possible__ften with drugs that may be doing much more harm than good. This biological reductiveness, along with the stigma that it attracts, shapes the person__ interpretation and experience of his distress or deviance, and, ultimately, his relation to himself, to others, and to the world. Moreover, to call out every difference and deviance as mental disorder is also to circumscribe normality and define sanity, not as tranquillity or possibility, which are the products of the wisdom that is being denied, but as conformity, placidity, and a kind of mediocrity.

If we were to gain God's perspective, even for a moment, and were to look at the way we go through life accumulating and hoarding and displaying our things, we would have the same feelings of horror and pity that any sane person has when he views people in an asylum endlessly beating their heads against the wall.