A Quote by William Saroyan

Sunday is the day people go quietly mad, one way or another. — © William Saroyan
Sunday is the day people go quietly mad, one way or another.
the first day i shot dope was on a sunday. i had just come home from church got mad at my mother cuz she got mad at me. u dig?
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."
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.
It's impossible for me, without getting a big wide shot of Manhattan, to convince people that it's another day. But if we go to a commercial and we come up and people are in different clothes, you know it's another day.
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.
Sunday is the day I connect with Buenos Aires. I speak to or text my mother every day, but on Sunday I phone everyone.
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?
It is Sunday, mid-morning-Sunday in the living room, Sunday in the kitchen, Sunday in the woodshed, Sunday down the road in the village: I hear the bells, calling me to share God's grace.
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.
In the country Sunday is the day on which you do exactly as much work as you do on other days but feel guilty all the time you are doing it because Sunday is a day of rest.
We're self obsessed and mad and stupid - not that other people can't be the same way - but the extremes are kind of honest in some mad way. Anyway, I like them.
If people call me a Sunday painter I'm a Sunday painter who paints every day of the week!
I'm starting to realize I can't practice a certain way during the week and expect to play another way on Sunday.
Perhaps I am too tame, too domestic a magician. But how does one work up a little madness? I meet with mad people every day in the street, but I never thought before to wonder how they got mad. Perhaps I should go wandering on lonely moors and barren shores. That is always a popular place for lunatics - in novels and plays at any rate. Perhaps wild England will make me mad.
For me, being world champion, you have to put your body through these extreme tests, day in and day out. So when Sunday comes around, that's the day when I pamper myself. I might get a massage or go to a spa.
If you are really spontaneous, people will think you are mad. If you go to a tree and start talking, or to a flower, people will think you are mad. If you go to a church and talk to a cross or to an image, nobody will think your are mad, they will think that you are religious. You are talking to a stone in a temple and everybody thinks you are religious because this is the authorized form.
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