A Quote by James May

You have to be a bit mad and conceited to go on television. — © James May
You have to be a bit mad and conceited to go on television.
Anyway, what does mad mean exactly?" Rami added quickly "Aren't we all a little mad? Don't we have to be somehat mad just to go on living, to go on hoping?
If you think you are not conceited, it means you are very conceited indeed.
If a man thinks he is not conceited, he is very conceited indeed.
All my life, people have asked me what I was so mad about. 'Why you so mad?' And I was never mad. I'm not mad, I just look mad.
But the conceited man did not hear him. Conceited people never hear anything but praise.
Did I write it so as not to go mad or, on the contrary, to go mad in order to understand the nature of madness?
A time is coming when men will go mad, and when they see someone who is not mad, they will attack him, saying, "You are mad; you are not like us."
There's only one way to become a hitter. Go up to the plate and get mad. Get mad at yourself and mad at the pitcher.
My basic political philosophy is, I ain't mad at that. Which basically means I don't have to have a strong opinion about everything. I'm too tired most of the time. Why do I have to take a stand on everything? Sometimes I'm just not mad at it. Like, What do you think about gay marriage? I ain't mad at you, you're gay and you're married: I ain't mad at you, go do it.
There was a time when I said, "I'm going to go do a television thing," after doing all these theatrical films, and heard, "Television? Why are you going to go back to television?" It's an interesting place.
It is a bit frustrating. Things come and go in television. At the moment they've gone.
Alice tried another question. "What sort of people live about here?" "In THAT direction," the Cat said, waving its right paw round, "lives a Hatter: And in THAT direction," waving the other paw, "lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they're both mad." "But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked. "Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad." "How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice. "You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here."
If a man insisted always on being serious, and never allowed himself a bit of fun and relaxation, he would go mad or become unstable without knowing it.
The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved.
You can be as mad as a mad dog at the way things went, you can curse the fates, but when it comes to the end, you have to let go.
I'm sure I've all but lost friends by maintaining that, despite their love for it, I always saw Stanley Kramer's 'It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World' as more of an exercise in anti-comedy than humor.
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