She was a slave of the morrow, the undefined, awful morrow, ever about to bring forth no one knows what.

That morrow could she but forestall! If any should think that anxiety and watching must have so wrought on Sepia that she came to be no longer accountable for her actions, I will not oppose the kind conclusion.

For my own part, until I shall have seen a man absolutely one with the source of his being, I do not believe I shall ever have seen a man absolutely sane.

What many would point to as plainest proofs of sanity, I should regard as surest signs of the contrary.
A sign of my own insanity is it?
Your insanity may be worse than mine, for you are aware of none, and I with mine do battle.

I believe all insanity has moral as well as physical roots.