From the bestselling author of Running with Scissors comes Dry —the hilarious, moving, and no less bizarre account of what happened next. You may not know it, but you've met Augusten Burroughs. You've seen him on the street, in bars, on the subway, at restaurants: a twenty-something guy,... read more
Having escaped from a childhood in which his mother adopted him out to her cult leader/psychologist, was repeatedly raped by a fellow patient/cult member and developed a passion for hairdressing, Burroughs’ autobiography continues in Dry with the tale of his adult descent into a life as a high... read more (warning: may contain spoilers)
“<My apartment is> filled with empty Dewar’s bottles, hundreds of empty Dewar’s bottles. They cover all surfaces; the counters in the kitchen, the top of the refrigerator. They are under the table I use as a desk, dozens of them there, with a small clearing for my feet… And then I see them: fruit flies, hovering at the mouths of the bottles. They form dark clouds at the ceiling above the kitchen sink. And dead fruit flies cover everything, like dust.”
“I hate feelings. Why does sobriety have to come with feelings?”
Think of your head as an unsafe neighborhood; don’t go there alone,Highlighted by 64 Kindle customers
Stars should not be seen alone. That’s why there are so many. Two people should stand together and look at them. One person alone will surely miss the good ones.Highlighted by 43 Kindle customers
I hate having feelings. Why does sobriety have to come with feelings? One minute I feel excited, the next I feel terrified. One minute I feel free and the next I feel doomed.Highlighted by 39 Kindle customers
“Well, the thing is, part of me believes that love is more valuable when you have to work for it.Highlighted by 39 Kindle customers
Alcohol time is very different from sober time. Alcohol time is slippery whereas sober time is like cat hair. You just can’t get rid of it.Highlighted by 37 Kindle customers
The kind of sadness you feel at the end of summer. When the fireflies are gone, the ponds have dried up and the plants are wilted, weary from being so green. It’s no longer really summer but the air is still too warm and heavy to be fall. It’s the season between the seasons. It’s the feeling of something dying.Highlighted by 32 Kindle customers
Like cubic zirconia, I only look real. I’m an imposter.Highlighted by 30 Kindle customers
That I use booze like an escape hatch and also like a destination in itself.Highlighted by 25 Kindle customers
I sit there and think how it isn’t fair that I can’t drink at all, even a little. I realize I have crammed an entire lifetime of moderate drinking into a decade of hard-core drinking and this is why. I blew my wad. Fuck.Highlighted by 18 Kindle customers
A JOURNEY OF A THOUSAND MILES BEGINS WITH A SINGLE STEP.Highlighted by 17 Kindle customers
Language and sexual content. Also deals with tough subject themes (addiction, rape, relationships, death).
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