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“I am an artist you know ... it is my right to be odd.”
― E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly

“Weirdism is definitely the cornerstone of many an artist's career.”
― E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly

“I've always been drawn to tormented people full of contradictions.”
― Antonio Tabucchi

“When small towns find they cannot harm the strangest of their members, when eccentrics show resilience, they are eventually embraced and even cherished.”
― Louise Erdrich, The Master Butchers Singing Club

“Eccentricity of a creative mind may not be pleasing for the people around it, but it is important for the progress.”
― Amit Kalantri, Wealth of Words

“Sometimes the fresh load of guests would turn up before we had got rid of the previous group, and the chaos was indescribable; the house and garden would be dotted with poets, authors, artists, and playwrights arguing, painting, drinking, typing, and composing. Far from being the ordinary, charming people that Larry had promised, they all turned out to be the most extraordinary eccentrics who were so highbrow that they had difficulty in understanding one another.”
― Gerald Durrell, My Family and Other Animals

“Well, they're queer; but they're all very old, and so they're bound to be. But they're not mental,' explained Mother; adding candidly, 'Anyway, not enough to be put away.”
― Gerald Durrell, My Family and Other Animals

“Eccentrics with unseeing eyes glided through, savouring amid so much society their own particular loneliness and private sins and sorrows.”
― Iris Murdoch, The Green Knight

“Strays is what a writer I recently read calls those who, for one reason or another, and despite whatever they might have wanted earlier in life, never really become a part of life, not in the way most people do. They may have serious relationships, they may have friends, even a sizable circle, they may spend large portions of their time in the company of others. But they never marry and they never have children. On holidays, they join some family or other group. This goes on year after year, until they finally find it in themselves to admit that they'd really rather just stay home.

But you must see a lot of people like that, I say to the therapist.

Actually, he says, I don't.”
― Sigrid Nunez, The Friend

“A person willing to fly in the face of reason, authority, and common sense must be a person of considerable self-assurance. Since he occurs only rarely, he must seem eccentric (in at least that respect) to the rest of us. A person eccentric in one respect is often eccentric in others.

Consequently, the person who is most likely to get new ideas is a person of good background in the field of interest and one who is unconventional in his habits. (To be a crackpot is not, however, enough in itself.)”
― Isaac Asimov

“In war and other difficult enterprises in life, one can expect that people who possess useful skills will also display their share of eccentric habits, cruel behavioral traits, and bombastic personas. We can either shun such people or accept other people’s unusual behavioral actions in a nourishing perspective.”
― Kilroy J. Oldster, Dead Toad Scrolls

“Don't you ever realise," said Helen, "that the way we live is unlike the way other people live?"

"On the whole I should have thought that was cause for satisfaction.”
― Penelope Lively, Passing On

“Are you committed to having a really strange life?"

She laughed. "Probably. What do you mean?”
― Elizabeth Mckenzie, The Portable Veblen

“Yes," said Margaret, smiling. "You don't have three dead cats on your mantlepiece."

Dane stopped short. "DEAD CATS?" he repeated incredulously, taken aback. "Whose were they?"

"Old Mrs. Holloway's."

"How long had they been...DEAD?"

"Oh, years and years," Margaret assured him. "They were stuffed, you see. Taxidermy."

"Right," he said dryly. "Taxidermy.”
― Sarah Brazytis, The House on Harmony Street

“My fantasy was that I was the long-lost switched-at-birth child of wealthy eccentrics. One day, they would find me and take me away from the gypsy caravan that was my life, and give me hot meals, a decent dress, and a pony.”
― Roberta Pearce, A Bird Without Wings

“Try this." O'Grady smiled. "It's the only thing we drink. It'll warm your insides."
"What is it?" Asked the ever cautious Waldo.
"We call it the Forest Flaming Special. Go ahead-drink up."
"Well, okay...." Waldo lifted the cup and nearly dropped it when saw his name printed clearly on the side.
"We've been expecting you." Explained Fred, beginning to laugh.”
― Donald Jeffries, The Unreals

“Fortunately the City is vigilant. It too has its secret weapons. Since the summer it has released safety valves that form part of a wonderful mechanism, known only to itself. For the past three months we’ve noticed the most heartening appearance all over the place of eccentrics, more or less raving lunatics, cranks, and reinvigorating crackpots.”
― Jacques Yonnet, Paris Noir: The Secret History of a City

“So it was with the various eccentrics she discovered in the next years. Some she went home with, some she didn't; some she photographed, others she just talked to, but everyone impressed her. Like the irate lady who appeared to Diane one night pulling a kiddy's red express wagon trimmed with bells and filled with cats in fancy hats and dresses. Like the man in Brooklyn who called himself the Mystic Barber who teleported himself to Mars and said he was dead and wore a copper band around his forehead with antennae on it to receive instructions from the Martians. Or the lady in the Bronx who trained herself to eat and sleep underwater or the black who carried a rose and noose around with him at all times, or the person who invented a noiseless soup spoon, or the man from New Jersey who'd collected string for twenty years, winding it into a ball that was now five feet in diameter, sitting monstrous and splendid in his living room.”
― Patricia Bosworth, Diane Arbus: A Biography

“Morse found it nerve-wracking to cross the St. Jude grounds just as school was being dismissed, because he felt that if he smiled at the uniformed Catholic children they might think he was a wacko or pervert and if he didn't smile they might think he was an old grouch made bitter by the world, which surely, he felt, by certain yardsticks, he was. Sometimes he wasn't entirely sure that he wasn't even a wacko of sorts, although certainly he wasn't a pervert. Of that he was certain. Or relatively certain. Being overly certain, he was relatively sure, was what eventually made one a wacko.”
― George Saunders, Pastoralia