I've always wanted to be a guy with a rec room.

The art and act of writing - speaking just for myself - involves getting your proverbial ass in the proverbial chair.

My own theory is that people are just so desperate for somebody they can feel better than, in America. Now that everyone's going broke and working 17 jobs - if they have one at all - at least they can look at these guys behind bars and think, "At least I get to wear my own clothes to work."

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.

At 17, all I wanted was to be a famous junky. Like all my heroes.

How do you write when you're not miserable? The solution, of course, is to make yourself miserable about not writing.

All of us, at some point in life, choose our cliché.