Never has nostalgia held stronger sway; never has the belief in the redemptive possibilities of the future seemed so laughable.

The presuming social view that mental health is not as serious as the media says it is, blocks progress. This too is political.

The depressed person is mired in the past; the manic person is obsessed with the future. Both destroy the present in the process.

Anyone who has actually been that sad can tell you that there's nothing beautiful or literary or mysterious about depression.

I wonder if there is anyone who is not depraved. A wearisome thought.I want money. Unless I have it....In my sleep, a natural death!

It felt like this was never going to end. The world wasn't going to stop crashing down until there was nothing left of me but dust.

Can you smell his sweat? That peculiar goatish odor is trans-3-methyl-2 hexenoic acid. Remember it, it's the smell of schizophrenia.

Your mother is going to be fine," the nurse says. I breathe more easily but the word settles into my stomach. Fine. Was she fine before?

Now, Emily didn't make a sound. There was something more defining about the soundless reality that condemned the paradigm of passion.

Life wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t supposed to be. Eternal beauty could not exist if it were not for the face of a fatal flaw.

But Hey, Guess What Crazy means I'm not liablefor my actions. So screw it, I'll go home, propped up on Prozac against distractions

I am here for readers to see parts of themselves during my dark days, but also for a better way of living in my triumphs and gained wisdom.

You will never know the moon or stars, unless you breathe in their solar system and inspect it from many diverse vantage points as possible.

Believing something existed and then finding out it didn't was like reaching the top of the stairs and thinking there was one more step.

This was a characteroloical prelude, but it wasn’t chemical or somatic. It was the anatomy of melancholy, not the anatomy of his brain.