What was beauty unless you intended to use it, like a hammer, or a key? It was just something for other people to use and admire, or envy, despise. To nail their dreams onto like a picture hanger on a blank wall. And so many girls saying, use me, dream me.

Don't turn over the rocks if you don't want to see the pale creatures who live under them.

Depression, suffering and anger are all part of being human.

How vast was a human being's capacity for suffering. The only thing you could do was stand in awe of it. It wasn't a question of survival at all. It was the fullness of it, how much could you hold, how much could you care.

without my wounds, who was I? My scars were my face, my past was my life.

Once you get below the floor of our personal identities, we're all connected. Perhaps that's why we can move into others' lives.

Reading LOVE JUNKIE is like watching a sleepwalker taking a stroll on a freeway. All you can do is pray. Gorgeously written, piercingly honest.