Ethel: Where are you going? Mr. Hopkins: Fishing. Ethel: At this time of night? You're mad. Mr. Hopkins: What's the difference? There's no fish, day or night.
I write plays not to make money, but to stop myself from going mad. Because it's my way of making the world rational to me.
When I come to work each day, whether as a commentator for TheStreet.com or a host of Mad Money With Jim Cramer, I have only one thought in mind: helping people with their money.
I've always had an eye for nature, but it's the sort of thing to keep quiet about, because I don't want to come across as a mad hippy. But it makes sense to appreciate those things.
When I watch 'Mad Men' and I see the patronising attitudes to women that are so shocking for all of us to watch now, I feel that I've lived and see the same evolution in this regard around disability.
To be honest, I owned one suit before I filmed 'Mad Men' - the one suit that you have to have as an adult. Outside of that, I never really felt comfortable in a suit.
We're really spoiled on 'Mad Men.' Lots of television actors use the down season to go out and get creatively fulfilled, but I feel the opposite. Anything else I get to do is just icing.
'Mad Men' doesn't capture one single thing about the decor, costumes, or sexual interaction. It is a total projection of contemporary snarky attitudes into the past.
So why are we having to fight in 2012 against politicians who want to end access to birth control? It's like we woke up in a bad episode of 'Mad Men.'
Money is more than a massively consensual IOU note. It is a piece of infrastructure and is as artificial as Interstate 5, NutraSweet or season three of 'Mad Men.'
I looked up affirmative action once in Wikipedia, and it said, 'A measure by which white men are discriminated against,' and I got so mad.
But what is the use of preaching the Gospel to men whose whole attention is concentrated upon a mad, desperate struggle to keep themselves alive?
My mother gets all mad at me if I stay in a hotel. I'm 31-years-old, and I don't want to sleep on a sleeping bag down in the basement. It's humiliating.
I suddenly had this really mad desire to have an affair with a woman. I was divorced. I was childless. I figured there's got to be one more way to really tick off my mom.
At one point in my 20s, I was about to quit acting. I'd had a crappy couple of years and I was depressed. My mom said, 'Don't give up! You'll be so mad at yourself.'
Mad Hatter: Mustard! Yes, mu- MUSTARD? Don't let's be silly! Lemon, that's different...
But now I have come to believe that the whole world is an enigma, a harmless enigma that is made terrible by our own mad attempt to interpret it as though it had an underlying truth.
I see that a man cannot give himself up to drinking without being miserable one half his days and mad the other.
Pegging your contentment to the overall state of the world rather than of your own life: the basis of morality, or a sort of madness?
Madness and witchery as well as bestiality are conditions commonly associated with the use of the female voice in public.
All this dread order break- for whom? for thee? Vile worm!- oh madness! pride! impiety!
