Of course I'm crazy, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong.
The main reason women are crazy, is that men are stupid.
A thought that sometimes makes me hazy: Am I - or are the others crazy?
I am crazy as hell, but I know it. And knowing it is a kind of sanity that makes the sickness worse.
Life is just this way, broken, and I am crazy to hope for something else.
I am crazy about mysterious things.
I mean, maybe I am crazy. I mean, maybe. But if this is all there is, then I don't want to be sane.
Here's all you have to know about men and women: women are crazy, men are stupid. And the main reason women are crazy is that men are stupid.
That's exactly it—I am crazy sad, and somewhere deep inside, all I want is to fly.
When I believe, I am crazy. When I don’t believe, I suffer psychotic depression.
I am crazy but I found a way to steer it into ways I think are very productive.
I'm glad I am crazy, it keeps me trying. I despise trendies, I know they're lying.
If the others heard me talking out loud they would think that I am crazy. But since I am not, I do not care.
This pain, this dying, this is just normal. This is how life is. In fact, I realize, there never was an earthquake. Life is just this way, broken, and I am crazy for dreaming of something else.
I'm a Giants fan through and through. I am crazy about Eli Manning. I'm all about the Giants.
George smiles to himself, with entire self-satisfaction. Yes, I am crazy, he thinks. That is my secret; my strength.
People think I am crazy because they see me doing stand-up, but I am generally not. I am very sad. I'm one of those guys that lights candles and listens to Rachmaninoff.
Here is the thing, you can make a dope movie and it may never see the light of day. I am crazy proud of my first movie.
I am crazy about time cuts. I have a theory that the audience tie everything together so they don't see time cuts but the time cuts give us the possibility of jumping in time, which means a psychological evolution can be cut down.
I am crazy about my own films. The films I've just made I'm crazy about them. But then I don't see them for many years. It's like when you get a new child you're very crazy about this child but then after a few years you're like, "what was its name again?"
I receive a lot of letters like yours. Most go on in length, describing all sorts of maddening situations and communications in bewildered detail, but in each there is the same question at its core: Can I convince the person about whom I am crazy to be crazy about me? The short answer is no. The long answer is no.
I am crazy for dessert. I eat everything. No one should be denied anything... just don't eat the whole thing.
He's bent over the strings tuning his guitar with such passionate attention I almost feel I should look away but I can't. In fact I'm full on gawking wondering what it would be like to be cool and casual and fearless and passionate and so freaking alive just like he is- and for a split second I want to play with him. I want to disturb the birds. Later as he plays and plays as all the fog burns away I think he's right. That's exactly it- I am crazy sad and somewhere deep inside all I want is to fly.
I heard that I am crazy for taking this fight but I'm very excited about this chance. His manager is saying that I'm a 'dead man walking' but 'dead men' cannot have 'nightmares'.
We stand on a precipice, then before a chasm, and as we wait it becomes higher, wider, deeper, but I am crazy enough to think it doesn't matter which way we leap because when we leap we will have learned to fly. Is that blasphemy or faith?
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