“When I do something, I go full-out. Half-measures are for wusses.”

“There's a peculiar thing that happens every time you get clean. You go through this sensation of rebirth. There's something intoxicating about the process of the comeback, and that becomes an element in the whole cycle of addiction. Once you've beaten yourself down with cocaine and heroin, and you manage to stop and walk out of the muck you begin to get your mind and body strong and reconnect with your spirit. The oppressive feeling of being a slave to the drugs is still in your mind, so by comparison, you feel phenomenal. You're happy to be alive, smelling the air and seeing the beauty around you...You have a choice of what to do. So you experience this jolt of joy that you're not where you came from and that in and of itself is a tricky thing to stop doing. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that every time you get clean, you'll have this great new feeling.Cut to: a year later, when you've forgotten how bad it was and you don't have that pink-cloud sensation of being newly sober. When I look back, I see why these vicious cycles can develop in someone who's been sober for a long time and then relapses and doesn't want to stay out there using, doesn't want to die, but isn't taking the full measure to get well again. There's a concept in recovery that says 'Half-measures avail us nothing.' When you have a disease, you can't take half the process of getting well and think you're going to get half well; you do half the process of getting well, you're not going to get well at all, and you'll go back to where you came from. Without a thorough transformation, you're the same guy, and the same guy does the same shit. I kept half-measuring it, thinking I was going to at least get something out of this deal, and I kept getting nothing out of it”

“I didn't feel strong. I felt like a big ball of wuss that wanted to curl up in my bed and never get out.”

“The cup is half full, sunshine and flowers and I try to act like I agree, but really I’m pissed someone dumped out half of my drink.”

“I tend to think the good outweighs the bad. Then again, I try to be a glass-half-full person. Although I stand by my theory that if you measure your happiness by the amount of liquid in your glass, you are either a cliche or an alcoholic.”

“I have to go out,” she said, her words oddly curt and abrupt. “There‟s something I need to do.”“At half eight in the morning?”“I‟ll be back soon,” she said, hurrying toward the door. “Don‟t go anywhere.”“Well, damn,” he tried to joke, “there go my plans to visit the King.”