Madness (n.) is a special form of the spirit and clings to all teachings and philosophies, but even more to daily life, since life itself is full of craziness and at bottom utterly illogical. Man strives toward reason only so that he can make rules for himself. Life itself has no rules. That is its mystery and its unknown law. What you call knowledge is an attempt to impose something comprehensible on life.
Madness (n.) is a special form of the spirit and clings to all teachings and philosophies, but even more to daily life, since life itself is full. Of craziness and at bottom utterly illogical.
Madness (n.) is also possessed of its system. It is an exceptional reaction to emotional problems which are not strange to us.
Madness (n.) shows in crude, enlarged form what passes only fleetingly through normal people.
Madness (n.) is not too dear a price, in small measure, for a nonentity to recognize himself as the intersection of all ages past and future — so long as the primordial image does not devour him.
Madness (n.) is a flood of thoughts as strange to the patient as to us; we call him crazy because the premises of his ideas are as remote from us as they were from him before he went mad.
Madness (n.) is everything the modern mind cannot define — so the rationalist meets activated archetypes as the fear of going mad.
Madness (n.) shows method once we enter a patient's human secrets: the "absurdities" take on meaning, and insanity proves to be an unusual reaction to emotional problems in no way foreign to ourselves.
Madness (n.) was, beside poison and explosions, a danger of the art the alchemists feared; the stone was most probably a psychic experience, which explains their dread of mental aberration and devilish deception.
Madness (n.) is a social concept: the original fellow of a little Swiss town is plumb crazy on Harley Street, and the original painter becomes mad the day he is the bank's cashier.