Strange never stopped to realize how completely ridiculous he sounded to the ears of complete strangers. Even outside of the asylum, he spoke as he naturally spoke, with little consideration to the thought that other people might think he was certifiably insane. But he couldn't help it. Ever since picking up the mantle and responsibilities of Sorcerer Supreme, his entire life had changed. It had turned upside down, inside out, and spread across a myriad of dimensions. It was a wonder that he could still hold a normal conversation at all.
Which was why he never stopped to think that Harry might have thought him a mad man. It wasn't important if he did. Not in the long run. What was important was that Strange knew that he himself wasn't insane. (And that he found his belongings as soon as possible.)
The fate of the universe might have depended on it.
"No time! Can't wait! Else we might all feel the wrath of the great Vishanti!"
He hurried off down the hall, disappearing around a corner.