There Are No Uncriminal Crimes.

I Believe In What I Do. I Mean, I Don't Go Out - I Don't Have The Clothes Or Drink Anymore, I Don't Do Drugs Or Any Of That. I Used To. But I Got Very Ready To Get Me Out Of The House.

The Birth Of A Doubt That Was Once Your Belief Is Drowning In The Tears That You Cry.

When I Was Doing Drugs And Alcohol, I Thought I'll Have A Drink And A Line Of This And I'll Smoke This. I Didn't Go, 'then I'm Going To Go Out And Get Drunk, Come Back Strangle My Wife And Wake Up In Jail On Charges Of Attempted Murder,' But That's What Happened. I'm Not Telling People What To Do. If They Can Enjoy Doing It And They Get On With It And They Can Handle It Fine, But Don't Involve Me. I'm Lucky To Be Alive; You're Playing With Russian Roulette.

L.a.'s Not A Good Place To Grow Old.

My Stay In Camp Betty Was The Longest I'd Been Without Drink Or Drugs In My Adult Life. [...] At First, They Put Me In A Room With A Guy Who Owned A Bowling Alley, But He Snored Like An Asthmatic Horse, So I Moved And Ended Up With A Depressive Mortician. [...] The Mortician Snored Even Louder Than The Bowling Alley Guy - He Was Like A Moose With A Tracheotomy.