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Quote by James Frey

“I go to my Room and I drink and I smoke some cigarettes and I think about her. I drink and I smoke and I think about her and at a certain point blackness comes and my memory fails me.”

Quote by James Frey

Book:A Million Little Pieces

Work

A Million Little Pieces

This memoir offers an intimate look into the author's journey through drug addiction and subsequent recovery. The narrative is a candid account of the personal challenges faced during this transformative period in the author's life. more

Author

James Frey

James Frey is an American writer born on September 12, 1969. Known for his memoirs, his work often delves into the complexities of human nature and the multifaceted nature of life. His book 'A Million Little Pieces' sparked controversy over its authenticity, but it provided readers with a unique perspective on memory, truth, and self-perception. more

“Anyone can write five people trapped in a snowstorm. The question is how you get them into the snowstorm. It's hard to write a good play because it's hard to structure a plot. If you can think of it off the top of your head, so can the audience. To think of a plot that is, as Aristotle says, surprising and yet inevitable, is a lot, lot, lot of work.”

People Ifs Thinking Writing Hard Play Audience Five Structure Inevitable Plot Surprising Trapped Snowstorms

Author:David Mamet

“I can't tell if she's actually real, or if she's stopped caring if she's real or not. Or is not caring what makes a person real?”

Ifs Persons I Can Real Experience Caring Life Experience Not Caring Stopped Caring

Book:A Visit From the Goon Squad

Source: A Visit From the Goon Squad

“You've got to shake your fists at lightning now, you've got to roar like forest fire You've got to spread your light like blazes all across the sky They're going to aim the hoses on you, show 'em you won't expire Not till you burn up every passion, not even when you die Come on now, you've got to try, if you're feeling contempt, well then you tell it If you're tired of the silent night, Jesus, well then you yell it Condemned to wires and hammers, strike every chord that you feel That broken trees and elephant ivories conceal”