Energy Rightly Applied Can Accomplish

All The Asylum Clothing Is Made By The Patients, But Sewing Does Not Employ One's Mind. After Several Months' Confinement The Thoughts Of The Busy World Grow Faint, And All The Poor Prisoners Can Do Is To Sit And Ponder Over Their Hopeless Fate

I Shuddered To Think How Completely The Insane Were In The Power Of Their Keepers, And How One Could Weep And Plead For Release, And All Of No Avail, If The Keepers Were So Minded.

What A Mysterious Thing Madness Is. I Have Watched Patients Whose Lips Are Forever Sealed In A Perpetual Silence. They Live, Breathe, Eat; The Human Form Is There, But That Something, Which The Body Can Live Without, But Which Cannot Exist Without The Body, Was Missing.

I Always Had A Desire To Know Asylum Life More Thoroughly - A Desire To Be Convinced That The Most Helpless Of God's Creatures, The Insane, Were Cared For Kindly And Properly.

I Always Made A Point Of Telling The Doctors I Was Sane, And Asking To Be Released, But The More I Endeavored To Assure Them Of My Sanity, The More They Doubted It