I slept in the bedroom used by Sabine Baring-Goulds wife when I was researching The Moor, and later the Jamaica Inn on Bodmin Moor.

What does it mean, to lose one's mind? Where does it go? If a man is out of his mind, where is he? What is insane when the world is mad by contrast?

...but somehow the madness around me and the turmoil I carried within myself acted as counterweights, and I survived in the centre.

Why the devil was my husband positively grinning - and with what looked remarkably like relief?

I crawled into my book and pulled the pages over my head.

However, the mind has an amazing ability to continue worrying away at a problem all on its own, so that when the "Eureka!" comes it is as mysterious as if it were God speaking.

Using insult instead of argument is the sign of a small mind.