I always tell myself, when I remember the non-stop self-generated hell party that used to be my life, I wouldn't be here if I didn't go there.

All my life I'd gone for women who were a little off.

Heroin spread that soft blanket over everything. But once the blanket was ripped off, it took a layer of skin with it, leaving nothing but nerve ends screaming in the breeze.

I need - and occasionally love - to write for the same reasons I always did: hard as writing is, it's generally easier than life.

Life can be lived as a temporary arrangement. Life is a temporary arrangement! But the longer you go without changing, the more obscure the likelihood you ever will. After enough time passes, the idea of another way of life grows even more misty.

Rumi will transform you, in ways you didn’t know you needed transforming.

Junkies are liars. They have to be professionally.