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Drugs Quotes

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Drugs Quotes

“I made a joke, I said, "What are you up to? You want us to jump?" And Nicky said, "Could be fun." I... Let me put it this way: When you find yourself high on the roof of a hotel with a husband who doesn't outright say that the two of you shouldn't jump off, you start to realize you have a lot of problems. This wasn't my rock bottom. But it was the first time I looked around and thought, Oh, wow, I'm falling.”

DrugsFallingBad Relationship
Book:Daisy Jones & The Six
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“Glad to see word reached you. I forgot my phone and somehow throwing pebbles at random windows seemed like a losing strategy." "My roommate thinks I'm running drugs," said Dee flatly. "And that you're my dealer." James blinked. "At least she thought I looked enterprising." "She said you looked homeless." James straightened the sleeves of his orange leather jacket. "It's vintage”

FunnyConversationHomelessDrugsDemonsHeartsLolVintageBruh
Book:The Hearts We Sold
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“Picture a man in his living room. He is standing at a closed window opposite the fireplace and looking out at the dark night. As the fire starts to burn, the images of the objects in the room behind him can be seen reflected dimly in the window. As more logs burn and the fire in the fireplace illuminates the room, the man now sees a vivid reflection of himself and the contents of the room, which appears to be outside the window. As the analogy is applied to intoxication, the window is the window of our senses to the world, the fire is the electrical excitation in the brain, and the logs are the drugs that dampen (sedatives) or stoke up (stimulants and hallucinogens) the fire. When the fire is stifled, the man will see very little. But when the fire burns brightly, the glass will reflect the furniture in the rooms of his mind—his images, memories, dreams, and fantasies. The brighter the fire—the more [drugs] in the brain—the more vivid the reflections become until some users step through the window, like Alice going through the looking glass, and behave as if the images were real.”

DrugsIntoxicationPsychedelicsHallucination
Book:Intoxication: The Universal Drive for Mind-Altering Substances
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“Medications used to treat psychiatric disorders are commonly referred to as psychotropic drugs. These drugs are commonly described by their major clinical application, for example, antidepressants, antipsychotics, mood stabilizers, anxiolytics, hypnotics, cognitive enhancers, and stimulants. A problem with this approach is that these drugs have multiple indicators. For example, selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRls) are both antidepressants and anxiolytics, and the serotonin-dopamine antagonists (SDAs) are both anxiolytics and mood stabilizers.”

AnxietyDrugsPsychiatryMedicationPsychosisDopamineStimulantsAntidepressantsMedsSerotoninPsychiatric DisordersPsychiatric DrugsPsychotropicAnti DepressantDepression TreatmentAnxiolyticMood Stabilizers
Book:Kaplan and Sadock's Synopsis of Psychiatry: Behavioral Sciences/Clinical Psychiatry
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“Drugs are also a part of school life in particular marijuana. Alcohol beverages, prostitution - not so much on campus - but that is a way of survival for some young women and young men. These are societal ills.”

SocietyStudentsSurvivalAlcoholMarijuanaYoung WomenDrugsTeenagersProstitutionSchool LifeGeneration XYoung MenAt Risk YouthSocietal IllsGuidance CouncilorsSchool CampusTrouble Teens
Book:The Fight of My Life is Wrapped Up in My Father
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“I used to think a drug addict was someone who lived on the far edges of society. Wild-eyed, shaven-headed and living in a filthy squat. That was until I became one...”

InspirationalCourageSelf HelpBraveMiseryAddictionMemoirRecoveryDrugsAddictNon FictionPrescriptionsHeroinDrug AddictionHospitalSurvival StoryAddictsDifficult LifePainkillers
Book:Painkiller Addict: From Wreckage to Redemption - My True Story
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“When you push someone's head under water for 5 minutes, they will drown. It doesn't matter if the person is a sinner or a saint. It's just a natural process. If their head is under water, the lack of oxygen will make them drown. That rule applies to everyone, good or bad, equally. It doesn't matter if the drowning person has strong moral fiber. And it doesn't matter if you're a good or a bad person, once you become addicted to drugs. What happens next is inevitable. It's a natural process that happens in everyone's brain, once the drugs take over. So don't ever fool yourself into thinking that only weak or bad people get addicted.”

AddictionDrugsDrowningCocaineHeroinSubstance AbuseAddicts
Book:Bad Choices Make Good Stories - The Heroin Scene in Fort Myers
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“Don't ever think you're better than a drug addict, because your brain works the same as theirs. You have the same circuits. And drugs would affect your brain in the same way it affects theirs. The same thought process that makes them screw up over and over again would make you screw up over and over as well, if you were in their shoes. You probably already are doing it, just not with heroin or crack, but with food or cigarettes, or something else you shouldn't be doing.”

SexAddictionSmokingDrugsCocaineHeroinSubstance AbuseAddictsFood Addiction
Book:Bad Choices Make Good Stories - The Heroin Scene in Fort Myers
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“The only way to truly help most drug addicts and most alcoholics is to—instead of them—change reality.”

HelpingRealityReligionChangeDrugDepressionMurderSuicideAddictionAlcoholWeedHelpKillersDrugsAddictSuicidalEscapeAlcoholismKillEscapismDepressedDrug AddictRehabCannabisRehabilitationAlcoholics AnonymousHelpersAaKilledAlcoholicAddictsHelperDepressHelpedEscapesDrug AddictsSelf MurderMind AlteringMurderingRehabilitation CentersAlcohol FreeRehabilitation CenterRehabilitation CentreRehabilitation CentresRehabilitationsRehabsTake One S Own LifeTook One S Own Life
Author:Mokokoma Mokhonoana
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“Altitude sickness, unregulated drugs and medical gas enabled workers to become drug abusers/addicts”

DrugSickAbuseWorkersAddictionMedicalSicknessGasAltitudeMaunaKeaDrugsAddictOxygenDrug AddictionAddiction And RecoveryAbusersMedical ProfessionDrug AbuseDrug UseWorkerMedical ResearchMedical EthicsAddictsSickness And HealthAddictionsSicklySickness And DiseasesAddictedAltitudesDrug PolicySickness Of The MindWorker RightsOxygen Of LifeOxygen Theory
Author:Steven Magee
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“Once both male canines had collected enough smell samples from Sabrina's crotch/my dinner, we stopped laughing and managed to get inside the apartment. It was a two-room apartment on the ground floor and it was quite dark inside, with the curtains closed and only one or two lamps turned on in the entire place. Two big cats, two big dogs and two Jewish guys were sitting in the living room. There were a variety of products scattered all over the place. The room was a mess, not necessarily caused by the pets. They told us that they also have two more large cats at home in Belgium. Mario introduced us to Tom Titelany: the short, dark-haired guy who had opened the door and was the owner of the Dogue de Bordeaux. The other guy, sitting in the dark, a bit taller and skinnier with brighter skin, and brighter hair, and much brighter eyes, called Adam Maraudin, was the owner of the two large cats and the Bull Terrier jumping around. There was a huge serpent tattoo winding around Adam's shoulder, and though his tank top only revealed part of the design, it was clear that this was not an ordinary tattoo, it seemed to me to be of Far-Eastern origin or Thai. They then introduced us to Adam's girlfriend, the British Rachel Conarts, whom Adam called Shifra for some reason. She had ginger hair and was as tall as Adam, taller than Tom. There was a big bag of scuba diving kit in the living room and, when I asked them about it, they told me that Shifra and Adam had first met in Thailand, where they had been scuba diving. One of them was called Tom, the same as my name, and the other one was called Adam, coincidentally the same as my middle name. Coincidence? I don’t know.”

EuropeIsraelConspiracyMarijuanaDrugsSpainMafiaCocainePsychopathsCatalonia
Book:BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
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“Criminalization and interdiction have filled prisons and corrupted governments in country after country. However, increasingly potent drugs that can be synthetized in any basement make controlling access increasingly impossible. Legalization seems like a good idea but causes more addiction. Our strongest defense is likely to be education, but scare stories make kids want to try drugs. Every child should learn that drugs take over the brain and turn some people into miserable zombies and that we have no way to tell who will get addicted the fastest. They should also learn that the high fades as addiction takes over.”

MalesAddictionAlcoholDrugsPsychopathologySubstance AbuseEvolutionary PsychiatryMismatchNarcosCriminal Gangs
Book:Good Reasons for Bad Feelings: Insights from the Frontier of Evolutionary Psychiatry
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“Most chemicals that give humans a buzz evolved to disrupt insect nervous systems. If our brains used different chemicals, we would not be so vulnerable. However, we have common ancestors with insects. It was long ago, about 500 million years ago, when our ancestors split off from the arthropod lines that became modern insects. However, our neurochemicals remain about the same as theirs. Fortunately, most plant neurotoxins don’t kill us. We have evolved to eat plants, and we are much larger than insects, so low doses are not fatal. But drugs can hijack our motivation mechanisms and take control of our lives.”

MalesAddictionAlcoholDrugsPsychopathologySubstance AbuseEvolutionary PsychiatryMismatchNarcosCriminal Gangs
Book:Good Reasons for Bad Feelings: Insights from the Frontier of Evolutionary Psychiatry
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“The trajectory is clear: our minds have always been vulnerable to capture by alcohol, marijuana, tobacco, coca, and opium, but problems with them have escalated as advances in chemistry, transportation, and technology have increased the diversity, purity, and availability of drugs. The mismatch was bad before; now it’s getting much worse.”

MalesAddictionAlcoholDrugsPsychopathologySubstance AbuseEvolutionary PsychiatryMismatchNarcosCriminal Gangs
Book:Good Reasons for Bad Feelings: Insights from the Frontier of Evolutionary Psychiatry
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“Before we had finished the third round of beers, little Johnny and I had been poisoned. Someone must have put something in his beer and mine, but not in his wife's. Imagine that. I was texting and crying with my head down, and they were kissing in love, so we didn't pay attention to who could have reached our bottles on our table. I don't remember how we got to Urgell while both of us were dying from poisoning. It was a couple of blocks away; uphill a few blocks and another few block left towards Plaza Espanya. I was blindly following the way my legs and muscle memory led me, and us, towards the store and Canale Vuo from Universitat. I cannot recall a single memory frame from Nevermind to the Urgell Store, as if I had been poisoned so badly I was literally blind and unable to see. Visual blackout. I remember the three of us, holding onto each other at every step of the way, grabbing each other's arms, squeezing a hand in pain. We must have resembled Benicio del Toro and Johnny Depp attempting to enter Circus Circus in the movie, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, under the influence of ether. Or as Hunter S. Thompson and his lawyer must have appeared in real life. Anything could have happened to us that night. His wife was as tiny and fragile as Sabrina; she was just a bit taller. Multiple times we almost fell on the ground as we stumbled through the streets, trying to find our balance as his wife tried to keep us both on our feet with limited success. Johnny's wife was between us, trying to hold both of us up and lead us where my legs were taking us. I was unsure if we would live long enough to see the next day. “Realllllly.” – as Adam would say. It was the first time I had ever met Johnny Maraudin and it was almost our last night in life. We got closer to each other one night, after less than three rounds of beers, than we were with his brother Adam, who’s only friend was Tomas, in need.”

EuropeIsraelDrugsSpainMafiaBarcelonaBlack MagicCataloniaCoffeeshopGolem
Book:BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
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“- Can you keep secrets? - Yesss. - We are going to make one of the biggest coffeeshops in Barcelona with my boss, Adam. - Realllllly? - This Adam guy is kind of my friend and kind of my boss, but I don't trust him; he is a bad guy. “Bad to the bone.” His father is an even darker figure. I am pretty sure that both have killed before, hired to kill people. - I am from Buenos Airessss. - I understand honey but you don’t know this kind of people, these f…g desert roses. - There are Jewish people in Argentina too. - I am sure, baby, but these are not regular Jewish people, not regular Israeli people. These people are dark. Hocus-pocus. Criminal minds. Do you understand? - I guessss. - There are a lot of criminals in this town. They will try to take our club away, just like the Camorra is taking away other people's clubs. Just like that. Do you understand? - Yessss. - I know them; they are one of my clients. If there is anyone in the world who could make a deal with them, it would be me and Adam. He cannot cross me and I cannot cross him either. I would never do that. I am not sure about him though what is on his mind, I can tell there is something he is orchestrating I just don’t know what exactly, but he is as fishy as Sabrina. The problem is that only my ex-girlfriend knows about my signature on the non-profit organization, which is the base of the coffeeshop, the marijuana grow and the smoker club. Do you understand? - Yesssss. - We are talking about millions of Euros monthly cashflow. Do you understand? - Yesssss. - By telling you everything now, you are becoming my trusted; your life is in danger too if they manage to find a gap between us. Do you understand? - Yesssss. - I'm not sure what they're up to. They owe me already more money than anyone in this town would murder for. Do you understand? - Yesssss. - Now you know about it, too. Sabrina didn't care; she didn't think I would make it happen. She doesn’t know about the place. Only you know about it and us. But she will figure it out somehow; she will try to take your position, slipping between the criminals. Do you know how to play chess? - Not really. - OK then. Imagine this as a throne, these chairs you are sitting on top of. OK. No one can remove you from this throne being my girlfriend, no one can stand between us. No one can take the club away from us. They have no chance. Understand? - Yesss. - As long as you stick with me, she cannot do anything; no one can mess with us. Do you understand? - Yesss. - Everyone in the world would try to take your place, being my girlfriend, and they will try to push you out from this position, which only me I can give you, with Love. They will tell you lies about me and about themselves who’s club is it. Do you understand? - Yes. But why? - Because Rachel and Tom, the other two founding members of the club, Golan, I signed up with, are Adam's puppets. I don't trust any one of them. If they kill me, they never have to pay me what they owe me already, plus they can keep the 33% of the club which belongs to me. 100% Adam would keep. Do you understand now? - Yessss. - We will pull all the trash out and remodel the place without any permit, under the rug, in secret. - I sssseeee. (Eye. See.)”

CrimeIsraelDrugsSpainMafiaArgentinaBlack MagicCataloniaCoffeeshop
Book:BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
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“But I was stuck for a long time by myself at Abraham Lincoln's portrait, standing in the middle of the huge hall as people moved all around me with mostly children. I felt as if time had stopped as I watched Lincoln, facing him, while watching the woman’s back as she was looking out the window. I felt wronged, so much like Truman from the movie, standing there in the middle of the museum alone. I was wondering what would Abraham Lincoln do if he realized he was the slave in his own cotton fields, being robbed by evil thieves, nazis. I had taken numerous photos of Martina from behind, as well as silhouettes of her shadow. I remember standing there, watching as she stood in front of the window; it was almost as if she was admiring the view of the mountains from our new home, as I did take such pictures of her, with a very similar composition to that of the female depicted in the iconic Lincoln portrait looking outwards from the window. I hadn't realized how many photographs I snapped of Martina with her back turned towards me while we travelled to picturesque places. Fernanda and I walked side-by-side in utter silence, admiring painting after painting of Dali's, without exchanging a single word. Meanwhile, Luis and Martina had got lost somewhere in the museum. When I finally found her, she was taking pictures outside of the Rainy Cadillac. We both felt something was amiss without having to say it, as Fernanda knew things I didn't and vice versa. We couldn't bring ourselves to discuss it though, not because we lacked any legal authority between me and Martina, but because neither Fernanda or myself had much parental authority over the young lady. It felt like when our marriages and divorces had dissolved, it was almost as if our parenting didn't matter anymore. It was as if I were unwittingly part of a secret screenplay, like Jim Carrey's character in The Truman Show, living in a fabricated reality made solely for him. I was beginning to feel a strange nauseous feeling, as if someone was trying to force something surreal down my throat, as if I were living something not of this world, making me want to vomit onto the painted canvas of the personalised image crafted just for me. I couldn't help but wonder if Fernanda felt the same way, if she was aware of the magnitude of what was happening, or if, just like me, she was completely oblivious, occasionally getting flashes of truth or reality for a moment or two. I took some amazing photographs of her in Port Lligat in Dali's yard in the port, and in Cap Creus, but I'd rather not even try to describe them—they were almost like Dali's paintings which make all sense now. As if all the pieces are coming together. She was walking by the water and I was walking a bit further up on the same beach on pebbles, parallel to each other as we walked away from Dali's house in the port. I looked towards her and there were two boats flipped over on the two sides of my view. I told her: “Run, Bunny! Run!”

MurderIsraelConspiracyDrugsAbrahamCataloniaLincolnDaliSalvadorAvraham
Book:BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
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“Thousands of years before Christianity, secret cults arose which worshipped the sacred mushroom—the Amanita Muscaria—which, for various reasons (including its shape and power as a drug) came to be regarded as a symbol of God on earth. When the secrets of the cult had to be written down, it was done in the form of codes hidden in folk tales. This is the basic origin of the stories in the New Testament. They are a literary device to spread the rites and rules of mushroom worship to the faithful.”

WorshipDrugsMushroomsJewsHistoricity Of JesusChrist MythChrist Myth TheoryHistoricity Of The GospelsEssenesOrigin Of Christianity
Author:John M. Allegro
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