Nothing ever turns me on so much in a woman as unhappiness.

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

The Adderall Diaries is phenomenal. With jittery finesse and a reformed tweaker's eye for detail, Stephen Elliott captures the terrifying, hilarious, heart-strangling reality of a life whose scorched-earth physical and psycho-emotional dimensions no one could have invented - they absolutely had to be lived. By all rights, the author should either be dead or chewing his fingers in a bus station. Instead, he may well have written the memoir of an entire generation.

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

There's no deodorant for desperation.

There was a weird intimacy, sitting in a car together. Couples sat in cars. Cops and their partners. Strangers became unstrange, sharing a windshield view of the world.

In my family, misery didn't just love company, it wanted hostages.