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My name is Stephen Leeds, and I am perfectly sane. My hallucinations, however, are all quite mad.
You cross the line into insanity when your mental state stops you from being able to function, from being able to have a normal life.
“You accept that the things you see aren’t real?” Monica said, turning to me. “Yes.” “Yet you talk to them.” “I wouldn’t want to hurt their feelings.
Sometimes it is very useful to have a reputation for being a reclusive, amoral jerk. The thing is, I’m really only the reclusive part. And maybe, admittedly, the jerk part. When you have that mix, people generally assume you don’t have morals either.

