When you start putting pen to paper, you see a side of your personal truth that doesn't otherwise reveal itself in conversation or thought.

Nothing was working, and my friend was dead, and I didn't want to look at that.

Give her the continent and she wanted the hemisphere.

A certain amount of volatility and drama can me healthy and keep things fun and interesting if you're willing at any moment during a fight to say, 'This means nothing. I love you, let's forget about it.

That's a spiritual lifestyle, being willing to admit that you don't know everything and that you were wrong about some things. It's about making a list of all the people you've harmed, either emotionally or physically or financially, and going back and making amends. That's a spiritual lifestyle. It's not a fluffy ethereal concept.

I didn't care if he was a genius or a fucking idiot, he was rotting away, and it wasn't fun to watch.

Every true artist is at war with the world.

The fact that my circumstances had changed drastically but my behavior hadn't was beginning to wear on me.

My work was done, so it was time to start digging my grave again.

I was starting to come to grips with the fact that I had created a lot of pain and suffering around me, not just within me.

She was probably the girl I loved the most of all my girlfriends, but also the toughest one to make things work out with. If I had put that much effort into any of my other relationships, I'd be married with five kids now.

Music itself was color-blind but the media and the radio stations segregate it based on their perceptions of the artists.

That was how we wanted to play, majestic and chaotic.

We took off our clothes, and we were basically in a sphere of love and light and warmth, and the rest of the world disappeared. It was better than I ever could have dreamed, it was that thing I had been looking for, that love mixed with the rapture of sex.

It was because all we wanted was each other's constant love and attention and for no one else to receive that love and attention, which is a selfish and difficult place to be in a relationship. We were emotionally retarded, and that was the best we could do at the time.

A year jammed full of adventure and misadventure, strides forward and many steps backward, another year in my topsy-turvy, Jekyll-and-Hyde existence.

When I looked into her eyes, I saw an invisible spirit of something that I already loved.

Every time you empty your vessel of that energy, fresh new energy comes flooding in.

I had seen these transformations, people who had lost their will to live, coming back from their zombie states and radiating a new life force from their eyes.

I've wanted to feel pleasure to the point of insanity. They call it getting high, because it's wanting to know that higher level, that godlike level. You want to touch the heavens, you want to feel glory and euphoria, but the trick is it takes work. You can't buy it, you can't get it on a street corner, you can't steal it or inject it or shove it up your ass, you have to earn it.

She wasn't about to go down that road herself, which was a testament to her spiritual awakening and her commitment to sanity. It was a real blessing that she didn't follow me, because oftentimes, people go out together and one comes back and the other doesn't. Or both of them never do.

One of the better definitions of insanity - doing the exact same thing over and over and expecting the result to be different.

When you realize that there's a name and a description for this condition that you thought was insanity, you've identified the problem, and now you can do something about it.

I stopped hating and started just being. My whole life, I had been the most defensive person you'd meet, unable to tolerate any criticism. But now I started listening and being.

Just the kind of girl I liked—the weirdo in the bunch.