it's not the large things that send a man to a madhouse... no, it's the continuing series of _small_ tragedies that send a man to the madhouse..

it's not the large things that send a man to a madhouse... no, it's the continuing series of _small_ tragedies that send a man to the madhouse... not the death of his love but a shoelace that snaps with no time left... the dread of life is that huge swarm of trivial shit that can kill quicker than cancer and which is always there-- [list of trivial shit] with each broken shoelace one of one hundred broken shoelaces, one man, one woman, one thing enters a madhouse. - Charles Bukowski, "the shoelace"