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Roses are red, violets are blue, I'm schizophrenic, and so am I.
The schizophrenic mind is not so much split as shattered. I like to say schizophrenia is like a waking nightmare.
My style is schizophrenic! One minute I'll be wearing bright girly dresses, and the next I'll be swinging towards more structured masculine things.
My style is definitely schizophrenic; it does change from day to day a lot. It depends on my mood: sometimes I'll be going through a girly, childlike stage and wear a pretty lace dress with a bow in my hair. Then sometimes I'll be moody and just wear black.
I don't know anybody that's not emotionally unstable or schizophrenic.
I was looking to do something non-fiction because I had done a strip, 'My Mom Was a Schizophrenic.' I really enjoyed the process of doing that strip, despite its subject matter. To do it I'd had to do a lot of research and reading and I figured I'd like to do that again.
If I lived in L.A., I'd be schizophrenic after a week.
I'm sure I'm a schizophrenic. The problem is I can't tell the difference between which one's which, which one is the real me.
When we talk to God, we're praying. When God talks to us, we're schizophrenic.
I must have been heavily schizophrenic all my life. The me who hears what the other me can't play is the dominant one.
