I could have completely lost my mind or became a junkie or abandoned all sense and judgment and committed some rash, stupid act that would have sent me right back into the cage. Instead, I chose to be happy - but not so much for the sake of happiness as for spite.

I'll hit anyone who's seriously threatening my life... that's what happened, and that's what sent me to prison.

I've never had a meth habit, I don't walk around naked, and unless I'm actively provoked, I'm generally polite and well-spoken.

Most of those who spend their lives as critics secretly wish they'd be considered important enough for someone to bother criticizing them.

It's not exactly courageous to be an anti-racist these days; a hundred years ago, it was.

My hatred is diamond-hard.

The average human's fundamental project is to find someone else to blame for their problems.