My main memories of my father are of his illness.

I still relate to my father very much. I mean, I talk to him in a certain way, as we do talk to the dead.

It's a source of great sadness to me that my father died without having seen me do anything worthwhile. He was constantly having to make excuses for me.

Many have master's and doctorate degrees, but because of their illness, they are out of the workforce, ... Now with new medications, many are capable of controlling the illness to the point of being able to function very well and contribute in varied positions that do contribute to the community and are not menial in nature.

There's nothing worse than finding yourself in a situation, a very demanding piece of work, and knowing that you're not a true ally to the person who's in charge of all that.

I was a savage for so many years of my life. There was some seed of determination in me that I was not conscious of. I was mostly consciously getting into trouble and drunk.