Psychiatric Disorder Quotes

The madman is the man who has lost everything except his reason.

Some call it schizophrenia, I call it a career

Hold it, Doc, a world war passed through my brain. He said, Nurse, get your pad, this boy's insane.

I have a plan-to go mad.

I don't understand if you get caught in a fight, but take it out on a room, how that implies some psychiatric disorder.

Schizophrenia is a successful attempt not to adapt to pseudo- social realities.

Raving mad is quite easy. You just chew up the scenery or something. It's quiet mad that's hard.

I am the child of a lunatic. Not a child of God.

The primitive thinking of the supernaturally inclined amounts to what his psychiatric colleagues call a problem, or an idea, of reference. An excess of the subjective, the ordering of the world in line with your needs, an inability to contemplate your own unimportance. In Henry's view such reasoning belongs on a spectrum at whose far end, rearing like an abandoned temple, lies psychosis.

I was diagnosed with everything from schizophrenia to multiple personality disorder.

That's the terrible part. I swear to God I'm a madman.

Schizophrenia is the name for a condition that most psychiatrists ascribe to patients they call schizophrenic.

I felt passing over me the wind of the wing of madness.

There are not schizophrenics. There are people with schizophrenia and these people may be your spouse, they may be your child, they may be your neighbor, they may be your friend, they may be your coworker.

The schizophrenic may indeed be mad. He is mad. He is not ill. I have been told by people who have been through the mad experience how what was then revealed to them was veritable manna from Heaven. The person's whole life may be changed, but it is difficult not to doubt the validity of such vision. Also, not everyone comes back to us again.

He is mad past recovery, but yet he has lucid intervals.

A schizophrenic is a person who already has a natural tendency to absent himself from this world.

Dispute not with her: she is lunatic.

...Someone speaks in soft tones to me and says I am psychotic, but it's going to be all right. I put on my hat, unperturbed, and ask for some crayons.

He stares at me, and then leans back in his chair. "He's ill, Jacob." I say nothing. "He's a paragon schnitzophonic." "He's what?!" "Paragon schnitzophonic," repeats Uncle Al. "You mean paranoid schizophrenic?" "Sure. Whatever. But the bottom line is he's mad as a hatter.

With madness, as with vomit, it's the passerby who receives the inconvenience.

My mother began to go crazy. Not in a 'Let's paint the kitchen red!' sort of way. But crazy in a 'gas oven, toothpaste sandwhich, I am God' sort of way.

I've been outta my mind a long time.

I've seen schizophrenics who are so hopeless, you couldn't cheer them, and their lives are miserable and they end up as suicides. That's not right.

She was crazy. I could be too. It was my greatest fear, that I'd snap one day too. Just like she had. I wanted to live life because if that day came I wanted to have lived once.