You are mad, because you care for politics, as mad as a man who collects tram tickets.

Buck is mad, because he cares for money, as mad as a man who lives on opium.

Wilson is mad, because he thinks himself right, as mad as a man who thinks himself God Almighty.

The Provost of West Kensington is mad, because he thinks he is respectable, as mad as a man who thinks he is a chicken.

All men are mad but the humorist, who cares for nothing and possesses everything.