The Insane Asylum On Blackwell’s Island Is

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.

How Can A Doctor Judge A Woman's Sanity By Merely Bidding Her Good Morning And Refusing To Hear Her Pleas For Release? Even The Sick Ones Know It Is Useless To Say Anything, For The Answer Will Be That It Is Their Imagination.

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

'very Well,' I Said Angrily, 'start The Man, And I'll Start The Same Day For Some Other Newspaper And Beat Him.'

But Here Let Me Say One Thing: From The Moment I Entered The Insane Ward On The Island, I Made No Attempt To Keep Up The Assumed Role Of Insanity.