When in spite of the fearful pressure of “morality of custom”… new and deviate ideas, evaluations, drives again and again broke out, they did so accompanied by a dreadful attendant: almost everywhere it was madness which prepared the way for the new idea, which broke the spell of venerated usage and superstition.

Do you understand why it had to be madness which did this? Something in voice and bearing as uncanny and incalculable as the demonic moods of the weather and sea and therefore worthy of a similar awe and observation? Something that bore so visibly the sign of total unfreedom as the convulsions and froth of the epileptic, that seemed to mark the madman as the mask and speaking trumpet of a divinity? Something that awoke in the bearer of a new idea reverence for himself and no longer pangs of consciousness; and drove him to become the prophet and martyr of his idea?
While it is constantly suggested to us today that instead of a grain of salt, a grain of the spice of madness is joined to genius, all earlier people found it much more likely that wherever there is madness there is also a grain of genius and wisdom – something divine, as one whispered to oneself. Or rather; as one said aloud forcefully enough. It is through madness that the greatest good things have come to Greece Plato said, in concert with all ancient mankind. Let us go a step further; all superior men who are irresistibly drawn to throw off the yoke of any kind of morality and to frame new laws had, if they were not actually mad; no alternative but to make themselves or pretend to be mad – and this indeed applies to innovators in every domain and not only in the domain of priestly and political dogma; - even the innovator of poetical metre had to establish his credentials by madness (...)

“How can one make oneself mad when one is not mad and does not dare to appear so?”

- almost all the significant men of ancient civilization have pursued this train of thought; a secret teaching of artifices dietetic hence was propagated on this subject. Together with the feeling that such reflections and purposes were innocent and indeed holy.

The recipes for becoming a medicine man among the Indians, a saint among the Christians of the middle ages, an Angekok amongst the Greenlanders, a Pajee among Brazilians are essentially the same; senseless fasting, perpetual sexual abstinence, going into the desert or ascending a mountain or a pillar, or sitting in an aged willow tree which looks upon a lake’ and thinking of nothing at all except what might bring on an ecstasy and mental disorder.

Who would venture to take a look into the wilderness of bitterest and most superfluous agonies of the soul in which probably the most fruitful men of all time have languished! To listen to the sighs of these solitary and agitated minds; “, give me madness you heavenly powers! Madness, that I may at last believe in myself! Give deliriums and convulsions sudden lights and darkness, terrify me with frost and fire such as no mortal has ever felt, with deafening din and prowling figures, make me howl and whine and crawl like a beast; so that I may only come to believe in myself! I am consumed by doubt, I have killed the law, the law anguishes me as a corpse does of a living man; if I am not more than the law, I am the vilest of all men. The new spirit which is in me, whence is it if it is not from you? Prove to me that I am yours; madness alone can prove it.”

And only too often this fervour achieved its goal all too well; in that age in which Christian proved most fruitful in saints and desert solitaries, and thought it was proving itself by this fruitfulness, there were in Jerusalem vast madhouses for abortive saints, for those who had surrendered to it their last grain of salt.