My perception of the world made me feel a more acute form of the strangeness of things. In the silence and immensity, each object was cut off by a knife, detached in the void, in limitless space, separated from other objects. By the very fact of being alone, without any link with the environment, it began to exist. I felt as if I had been thrown out of the world, outside life, as if I were a spectator of some endless, chaotic film in which I could not take part. I knew not how to reach for anything.
— Michel Foucault, Madness And Civilization: A History Of Insanity In The Age Of Reason