A Quote by Siobhan Fahey

When do you know you're insane? And when do you known you're sane? I think I treat a fine line between the two. It's a battle to function, but somehow I manage. — © Siobhan Fahey
When do you know you're insane? And when do you known you're sane? I think I treat a fine line between the two. It's a battle to function, but somehow I manage.
The line is very delicate and fine between being what one might call sane or insane, well or unwell.
It's funny because the most sane women I've ever met are my mom and my grandmothers. I think you have to be incredibly sane and self-aware to function in relatively insane environments.
The only difference between the sane and the insane is that the sane have the power to lock up the insane.
Then it is in me, too, the psychotic streak. A psychotic world we live in. The madmen are in power. How long have we known this? Faced this? And-how many of us do know it? ... Perhaps if you know you are insane then you are not insane. Or you are becoming sane, finally. Waking up. I suppose only a few are aware of all this. Isolated persons here and there. But the broad masses-what do they think? All these hundreds of thousands in this city, here. Do they imagine that they live in a sane world? Or do they guess, glimpse, the truth...?
Who says I'm insane?" "Oh you're sane alright. You're so sane, you scare me. You're so sane, it's insane.
I think there's a very fine line between the type of performing that some actors do, and being in a state in your mind where you actually believe what's going on. If we weren't actors, what would we do with that ability? Would we not be slightly insane? Mentally ill? I don't know.
The line between failure and success is so fine that we scarcely know when we pass it: so fine that we are often on the line and do not know it.
It is a fine line, in all of us, between civilization and savagery. To any who think they would never cross it, I can only say, if you have never known what it is to be utterly betrayed and abandoned, you cannot know how close it is.
--Why are we fighting them? --They're mad. We're sane. --How do we know? --That we're sane? --Yes. --Am I sane? --To all appearances. --And you, do you consider yourself sane? --I do. --Well, there you have it. --But don't they also consider themselves sane? --I think they know. Deep down. That they're not sane. --How must that make them feel? --Terrible, I should think. They must fight ever more fiercely, in order to deny what they know to be true. That they are not sane.
There's a very fine line between a groove and a rut a fine line between eccentrics and people who are just plain nuts.
There's a very fine line between a groove and a rut; a fine line between eccentrics and people who are just plain nuts.
Why are you still with me, Fry?" CyFi asks after one of his body-shaking seizures. "Any sane dude woulda taken off days ago. "Who says I'm sane?" "Oh, you're sane, Fry. You're so sane, you scare me. You're so sane, it's insane.
Perhaps if you know you are insane then you are not insane. Or you are becoming sane, finally.
It does, Tennyson, because there’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance. There’s a fine line between being assertive and being a bully. And you’re on the wrong side of both lines.
There is a fine line I have to walk throughout the writing process in a novel. It is this line between drama and melodrama, and it is this line between evoking genuine emotional power and being manipulative.
What shall I say? I must tread a fine line between glaciosity and friendlinosity. With just a hint of 'you don't know what you are missing, my fine-feathered friend.
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