'very Well,' I Said Angrily,

Could I Pass A Week In The Insane Ward At Blackwell's Island? I Said I Could And I Would. And I Did.

In Our Short Walks We Passed The Kitchen Where Food Was Prepared For The Nurses And Doctors. There We Got Glimpses Of Melons And Grapes And All Kinds Of Fruits, Beautiful White Bread And Nice Meats, And The Hungry Feeling Would Be Increased Tenfold.

The Insane Asylum On Blackwell’s Island Is A Human Rat-trap. It Is Easy To Get In, But Once There It Is Impossible To Get Out.

I Have Watched Patients Stand And Gaze Longingly Toward The City They In All Likelihood Will Never Enter Again. It Means Liberty And Life; It Seems So Near, And Yet Heaven Is Not Further From Hell

People In The World Can Never Imagine The Length Of Days To Those In Asylums. They Seemed Never Ending, And We Welcomed Any Event That Might Give Us Something To Think About As Well As Talk Of.