I can't think of anything more crushing than slowly, over time, realizing exactly how wrong you were about someone.

There's no app for a bourbon buzz on a warm day in a cool, dark bar. The world will always want a drink.

He was one of those guys who'd pronounce I'm a hugger as he came at you, neglecting to ask if the feeling was mutual.

People focus on the darker female characters in my books, but for every one of those, I can also show you an equally screwed up man that no one ever comments about, or a nicer woman that no one comments about.

It was surprising that you could spend hours in the middle of the night pretending things were OK, and know in thirty seconds of daylight that that simply wasn't so.

I've always been partial to the image of liquor as lubrication, a layer of protection from all the sharp thoughts in your head.

I've always believed clear-eyed sobriety was for the harder hearted.