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Everything I do has the tinge of the finite, of my own demise. At some point you either accept death or you just keep pushing it back as you get older and older. I've accepted it.

It is not my mode of thought that has caused my misfortunes, but the mode of thought of others.

By the age of 50, I would like to know that I'm not dead - that there's some continuity to my life.

Part of recovery is relapse. I dust myself off and move forward again.

Sometimes to go forward you've got to go to the depths of your own personal despair and claw yourself back. From that point, no matter what happens, you know you can do it.

I restore myself when I'm alone.

I'll always be in some type of turmoil. So what I've tried to do is just surrender to that.

When I left prison, I had to figure out how to embrace my past.

For me, the past is dead. Can't go back.