Madness is terrific I can assure you, and not to be sniffed at; and in its lava I still find most of the things I write about. It shoots out of one everything shaped, final, not in mere driblets, as sanity does.
Virginia Woolf, Nigel Nicolson (1979). “The Letters of Virginia Woolf: 1929-1931”, Harcourt on Demand
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