Each of us assumes everyone else knows what he is doing. They all assume we know what we are doing. We don't.
When you are crazy you learn to keep quiet.
On some other world, possibly it is different. Better. There are clear good and evil alternatives. Not these obscure admixtures, these blends, with no proper tool by which to untangle the components.
Madness has its own dynamism. It just goes on.
Every junkie, he thought, is a recording.
How much of what we call 'reality' is actually out there or rather within our own head?